


a safe place to land

by callmeautumn



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: (there will be no further comment on that matter), Alpha Hakoda (Avatar), Alpha Iroh (Avatar), Alpha Sokka (Avatar), Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Beta Katara (Avatar), Canonical Character Death, Discussion of Abortion, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Everyone Needs A Hug, Gender dynamics, Gender politics, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Internalized Hatred Toward Designation, Internalized Misogyny (but make it Omega), Killing One's Rapist is More Than Justified, M/M, Mentioned Ozai (Avatar), Mentions of Dying in Childbirth, Omega Bato (Avatar), Omega Toph (Avatar), Omega Zuko (Avatar), Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Ozai (Avatar) Being a Terrible Parent, Pregnant Zuko (Avatar), Rape/Non-Con Leading To Pregnancy, Self-Loathing, Unpresented Aang (Avatar), Zuko (Avatar) Needs a Hug, mentions of rape/non-con, my personal favourite: everyone knows but them
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-17
Updated: 2021-01-08
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:16:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 47,155
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28119060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/callmeautumn/pseuds/callmeautumn
Summary: Sokka’s hand finds its way back onto Zuko's ankle over the cover, thumb stroking gently. “It’s been six days since your duel with Azula. You’ve been in and out of consciousness, but Katara is confident you’ll pull through; you and the pup.”
Relationships: Sokka/Zuko (Avatar), background Hakoda/Bato - Relationship, background Katara/Aang, background Suki/Mai/Ty Lee
Comments: 106
Kudos: 568





	1. prologue

**Author's Note:**

> ahh! this is the first time I'm publishing something without writing all of it first! this is very scary!! i withold the right to add to already-published chapters at will. this is a project that's been on my mind for a while, and i'm excited about where it's headed, so i hope you're ready to go on the journey with me!

When they arrive at Ember Island, Zuko pulls Katara aside, tugging her along until they reach a deserted back wing of the estate. 

“I-- I really need a favor. But before I ask it, you have to swear to me you won’t tell anyone. That includes everyone here. This has to stay between us.” 

“Zuko, are you okay? What’s going on?” 

“Just promise me!” 

“Why can’t I tell the team? We don’t keep secrets around here, and--” 

“Katara,  _ please _ .” He means to shout it, but instead he finds himself close to tears, weak-kneed and begging just like Father predicted. He schools his expression into something closer to neutrality and clears his throat. “Please,” he reiterates. “I can’t afford anyone knowing.” 

Katara’s expression is inscrutable for a moment, then smooths. “Alright. This favour stays between us. Don’t make me regret this.” 

Zuko nods, and, after looking around to confirm that nobody has followed them to the west wing of the estate, pulls her hand to his distended stomach, pressing her fingers to its small, hard curve. “I think-- I  _ know _ I’m pupping. Could you-- Is there a way for you to do a check, see if they’re okay?” 

“Zuko…” Katara pauses, looking incredibly lost and terribly young, then composes herself and turns around. “Of course. Lay down and expose the crest however you’re comfortable.” 

Zuko nods even though she can’t see it, grateful for the Beta’s cool professionalism as he slips off his tunic and shimmies his pants down his hips. The wood floor is cool beneath his back. He is still shivering lightly when Katara turns back around. To Zuko’s surprise, Katara begins without water, touching his bare skin with her hands. Her movements are careful but confident as she measures his bump and presses gently against its contours. 

“Is the pup Sokka’s?” 

“WHAT?!” 

Katara’s scent and expression are suspiciously neutral as she shrugs and bends some water from her pouch to wrap around her hands. “I just-- I have to ask. I’m not upset if it is. But, if the pup  _ is _ \--” 

“It  _ isn’t. _ ” Katara looks at him sharply. Zuko looks right back, defiant even as he’s flat on his back, pupping belly visible for all the world to see. “I was already pupping when we were under Ba Sing Se. It was the early stages, but-- I know who the sire is. He doesn’t matter anymore. The pup is mine, not the sire’s or anyone else’s.” 

Sad understanding is slow to dawn on Katara’s features, washing over her slowly like the winter sun straggling over the horizon. Zuko looks away, flooded once more with emotions too big to wrap names around. 

“Zuko--” 

“I don’t want to talk about it, Katara. Please.” 

She pauses, tears welling in her eyes, before she nods once and returns to her work in silence. Zuko stares at the ceiling and breathes deeply and evenly as tears slip into his hair and across the floor. Eventually, Katara pulls her hands away and bends the water back into her pouch for later use. “Okay! The pup is between three and four cycles, closer to four given that they were-- were sired before the catacombs.” 

Zuko chooses to push past Katara’s stumble without comment. “Cycles?” 

“Yes. Cycles of the moon. Months would be the more accurate term, I suppose, but in the Southern Water Tribe we track pupping in cycles - nine cycles in total.” 

Zuko nods in understanding as he pulls his clothing back where it belongs. 

“The pup is a little small,” Katara continues, “but that isn’t uncommon for first pups. At least, in my experience it isn’t unusual. I’ve only ever been involved this early with Southern Water Tribe pups, so maybe it’s different in the Fire Nation?” When Zuko can only offer a blank look and a shrug, Katara hurries on. “At this stage, you’ll want to make sure you’re eating three meals a day; four if you feel up to it. And try not to bind your breasts if you can, especially as you edge into the fifth and sixth cycle, since overbinding can lead to issues producing milk and breastfeeding later down the line.” 

“Katara, not binding isn’t exactly an option for me. You don’t think the whole camp wouldn’t notice if I just randomly stopped binding and my tits got bigger?” 

The Beta shrugs helplessly. “Maybe take off the binding when you sleep, and take more swims? So you have an excuse? Submerging in water can also be good for your back and back pain as the crest gets bigger, so… Though I suppose you can’t exactly say that outright.” 

Zuko coughs out a quiet laugh, a familiar, overwhelmed feeling coming over him. The pup is so real, now that someone else knows. He can’t just loosen his tunic and pretend they aren’t there anymore. They exist outside his mind, outside his body in a tangible way. He takes a shaky breath. “Thank you, Katara. Truly, I appreciate it.” 

Without warning, Katara is engulfing him in a hug. Hesitantly, he hugs her back. “Congratulations, Zuko. You’re going to be an Amma.” 


	2. one

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> His fifth cycle has already been trying, a testament to his friends’ patience with him as he adjusts not only to his new body but a new awareness of how those around him perceive him. Suddenly he is not only himself but a vessel of life, the holder of something important, something sacred.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay! here's the first real chapter! after this, updates will be weekly on Wednesday! enjoy and talk to me in the comments! or tag me in stuff on Tumblr: @callmeautumn !

Zuko comes to wakefulness as he always has: silently and all at once. Reds swim before his eyes, his whole body listing on its axis even as he becomes aware of the mattress beneath him. He stays still for a long moment, trying to get his breathing under control, taking stock of his body and the room around him. 

Slowly, the events of the day before swirl to the front of his mind. Dueling Azula; running in front of the lightning bolt; the painful realization that he could either kill his pup or risk killing himself; pulling the lightning through his heart, pushing it out as quickly as possible, feeling his heart stutter and stop in his chest; watching Katara duel Azula and restrain her, forcing himself to keep breathing. He has to keep breathing. He has to keep-- 

A hand comes down on his ankle. It’s feather light, but Zuko still jerks away, eyes wide as he takes in the figure on his bed. For a brief, heart-stopping moment, he has no idea who it is. He is back _there_ , confused and afraid and terribly alone. Just before he can summon fire from his core and burn the stranger to a crisp, his mind slots together the form with a name and a host of memories: Sokka. The Alpha smiles gently, rubbing his hands with a soft, rasping noise for lack of anything better to do. “Hey.”

Zuko arranges his face into something close to a smile, pulls the covers higher over his stomach. “Hello.” 

They sit in silence for a long moment, taking each other in. Sokka looks… tired. Bone tired, the tired of a man keeping vigil, but his spine is straight. Zuko takes the Alpha in, dutifully ignores how regal and steadfast he looks, how protective and gentle the set of his eyes and jaw are. _Sokka is off-limits_ , Zuko reminds himself. _You can’t have him_. 

Sokka is the first to break the silence. “Are you-- Do you feel alright? Do you want me to get Katara?” 

Zuko just shakes his head. Now that he is paying attention to his body, his joints are achy and stiff. His mind feels fuzzy, fatigued, like he isn’t all the way awake yet. But he doesn’t want to break this moment, this close-to-peaceful quiet with Sokka. Even as Zuko tries to relax, he’s reminded that Sokka isn’t thinking of him that way.

“Where’s Suki?”

Sokka furrows his brow. “Oh! She’s, uhm. Last I saw of her, she was on her way back to Kyoshi Island with Ty Lee and Mai to begin their training. They’re probably halfway back by now.” 

He fights through the fuzz covering his brain, tries to latch onto what about that sentence makes him nervous. “Halfway back,” he begins. “That’s-- What _day_ is it?” 

Sokka’s hand finds its way back onto his ankle over the cover, thumb stroking gently. “It’s been six days since your duel with Azula. You’ve been in and out of consciousness, but Katara is confident you’ll pull through; you and the pup.” 

Zuko’s heart stutters in his chest, tripping over its feet before running away, beating so hard Zuko is concerned that it will force its way out of his chest. His breath is coming fast now, punching itself out of his chest after too-shallow inhales. That fuzz is back, stronger now, and his body has returned to spinning off its axis.

“Hey, hey, hey,” Sokka is saying, but he sounds far away, small and tinny, like he’s shouting down a long, metal hall. “Zuko, you’re gonna be okay. It’s alright.” 

Zuko shakes his head, curling further on himself to stop that terrible spinning in his mind, the way his brain feels too big for his head, his bones too small for his skin, his heart too weak for surviving.

“C’mon, Zuko, breathe with me. You gotta take some bigger breaths. Inhale with me, c’mon.” Distantly, Zuko hears Sokka inhale deeply, dramatically, and he tries to copy him, really he does, but his body is a runaway train, well past his control.

“Spirits, I’m so sorry, Zuko, but I have to do this.” 

Then Zuko’s face is being pressed into warm skin, a broad, strong chest pressed against his. He’s engulfed in warmth, a hand on his neck kneading his skin gently, easing him into a drugged sort of relaxation. It smells deeply of berries and something cold, biting, beautiful. Snow. Beneath it all, peeking out like a turtleduckling from its shell, is a rich, pine scent. Hungry for it, Zuko takes desperate, deep inhales.

“Good,” Sokka is saying, sounding much closer now. “Good. You’re okay. You’re gonna be alright. Just keep breathing.” 

Slowly, so slowly, his bones grow to fill his skin. His brain stops pressing against the contours of his skull, stops spinning wildly out of his control. He is still gulping in greedy breaths of Sokka’s scent. He tries to stop but Sokka scratches gentle circles across his back and whispers, “Keep breathing deeply. It’s okay. I’m-- It’s okay. You’re okay.” 

His fingers are aching from how tightly he is gripping Sokka’s shirt. Haltingly, he stretches his fingers, releasing his vice grip on the Alpha’s clothing. When he feels more steady, he pulls away from Sokka’s neck, then his touch entirely. He’s mortified, terribly so, that anyone has witnessed such a display of weakness, _Omeganess_ , but doubly so that Sokka has seen it. Sokka who loves Suki, a Beta who is evenly keeled and never weak, never in need of help.

Zuko clears his throat. “Sorry. That was-- uhm. Apologies.” 

Sokka shakes his head, a faint flush painted across the tips of his ears. “Nothing to apologize for. I-- I know you wanted to keep it a secret for as long as possible.”

Zuko can only nod. “Yeah.” 

“Katara didn’t-- she didn’t just gather us around and spill your secret. Toph had apparently known for months, could see the pup with her seismic sense or something? She thought we all knew and just weren’t saying anything. So when we all found each other again Toph asked about you and--”

“And the pup,” Zuko finishes flatly. 

“And the pup. Katara nearly killed her, but it was an honest mistake. She really just wanted to make sure you were okay. When Toph found out what you did with the lightning she very nearly stormed in here and gave your unconscious body a piece of her mind.” 

Zuko chuckles at the thought, though his humor is short-lived. Everyone knows. “Did Katara say-- did she talk about the-- the--”

“The sire? No. She said that was your story to tell.”

Zuko nods, bizarrely relieved that at least this is a secret he can hold to his chest.

“Speaking of the sire,” Sokka begins. He meets Zuko’s eyes, tries to hold them, but Zuko looks away, shame washing through him. “I-- You said there wasn’t anyone you missed when you left the Fire Nation to join us. And Mai is a Beta. So… Katara was right. It’s your story to tell. I just wanted to say… Look, I’ve seen how hard pupping can be without an Alpha. I know that Alpha hormones and scents can help to stabilize an O during pupping. So, I— I’m going to be here, in Caldera, for the foreseeable future. And I don’t— The pup is yours, okay? I don’t have to be listed as sire and I’m not saying you _can’t_ do it alone because you can. Of course you can. But I want to help. Please, let me help.” 

Zuko stares, waiting for the gotcha, waiting for the Alpha to name his price. When none comes, Zuko grimaces. “In… In exchange for what?” 

Sokka’s face goes blank for a moment, then horror lances across it. He pulls back suddenly, nearly falling off the edge of the bed in his haste to get away. “Oh, Zuko! No! I— I don’t want anything. No. Not like that.”

Zuko isn’t sure which burns hotter, his humiliation or relief. He should have known better than to bring it up with an Alpha as good and kind as Sokka. He should have known that Sokka wouldn’t have a price because Sokka isn’t broken and disgusting like Zuko.

“Zuko,” Sokka is saying, coming closer again now that he has seared that line into the sand. “You know it’s not— I’m not doing this as a— a _transaction_. I’m doing this, helping you, staying, because I want to. No strings attached.”

Zuko nods mutely, fiddling with the seam of the blanket draped across his lap. “I understand,” he says, after the silence has gone stale between them. “I— I’d like to be alone now, please. To rest.”

Sokka pauses, clearly trying to catch his eye, but Zuko stares resolutely at his hands, breathes deeply so he does not break apart right in front of Sokka. Finally, Sokka clears his throat and rises to his feet. “I’ll— I’ll let you rest. Just yell if you need anything; I won’t go far.”

Then Sokka is slipping through the door, closing it with a soft click, and Zuko is shattering. 

{}

Zuko strides down the hall leading to the Coronation Pavillion, thinking without any relish about the last time he was in similar shoes. Azula was at his side. He was restored as Crown Prince to the Fire Nation. He was terrified and more alone than he’d ever imagined, even as he stared out at millions of cheering faces. 

Aang is sitting by the heavy curtain, meditating. He’s adorned in the traditional robes for monks, head freshly shaven. He opens his eyes, smiles. Zuko returns the smile, pulling to a stop. He resists the urge to adjust his robes around his bump, knowing the motion will only draw attention to it. Even now, weeks after waking, he isn’t used to the idea that everyone he knows is aware. He isn’t used to their eyes flicking to his waist before meeting his gaze. He doesn’t know if he ever will be. 

“I can’t believe a year ago my purpose in life was hunting you down,” Zuko says, to draw attention away from his waist. “And now--” 

Aang’s smile broadens. “And now we’re friends.” 

Zuko nearly laughs at the absurdity of their situation. “Yeah. We are friends.” 

“I can’t believe a year ago I was still frozen in a block of ice,” Aang notes. He rises to his feet, letting his monk’s robes pool neatly around him. They’re gorgeous, a bright yellow that compliments his skin and stands as a pool of light in the dark reds and blacks of the ceremonial hall. “The world’s so different now,” Aang continues. 

“It’s going to be even more different. We’ll rebuild it together.” He means all of them, of course; each of them has a responsibility to their nation. But he and Aang will have the longest road to travel, the most rebuilding to do. Zuko is briefly overcome by how loved Aang is, how many people are looking out for him. Zuko was in such different straits at thirteen. 

Before he can dwell too long on that, Aang pulls him into a hug. Indulgent and greedy in equal measure, Zuko hugs Aang tightly to him, taking in the milky-sweet pup scent that is only now beginning to fade. His true scent is light, floral, hinting at an Omega presentation, but only time will truly reveal. 

A Fire Sage breaks their moment, coughing politely to signal that the time has come. Zuko buries his hurt in a smile, resisting the urge to shift his robes to more fully cover his bump. Their purpose is to reveal it, to hint at the suggestion of new life before the official announcement in a week’s time. 

His fifth cycle has already been trying, a testament to his friends’ patience with him as he adjusts not only to his new body but a new awareness of how those around him perceive him. Suddenly he is not only himself but a vessel of life, the holder of something important, something sacred. 

And slowly, certainly, the circle of those who know is growing. First him, in the dubious privacy of a folk-doctor’s apartment in the port city just outside Caldera. Then Katara, at his family’s home on Ember Island. After her, the rest of their ragtag team. The Fire Sages soon after. And soon, the rest of the world. Before he can appreciate the gravity of that, he is stepping into the sunlight. The crowd cheers. He lifts his hand to hold back their applause, says some words to invite Aang onto the stage with him. All he can think of is the heavy slide of lined silk against the sensitive skin of this crest. 

{}

The next week pases in a blaze of activity. There are letters to reply to, troop retractions to authorize, prisons to dissolve, colonies seeking to negotiate their liberation. Zuko sits through hours of meetings at a time, feeling like a child in their father’s robes as he sits in the throne room and is essentially lectured as to why the Fire Nation is bad. Everyone comes ready to start a fight and nobody is actually interested in listening to what he has to say. 

Sokka finds him in a deserted hallway in the Eastern Wing of the palace, curled into the tightest ball he can manage with his bump in the way. He has backed himself into a corner, which seems fitting considering the state of everything. 

“Hey, hey, hey,” Sokka is already cooing, dropping heavily to sit across from him in the middle of the hall. “What’s-- Where have you been? How long have you been sitting here? When’s the last time you ate?” 

Zuko can only shrug. He’s been here since his last meeting ended, which was at some point when the sun was up, and the sky is now completely dark. When he says as much, Sokka tuts, tries to reach out and pull him to his feet. Zuko resists, pulls his arm away, and only succeeds in slamming his elbow against the wall. 

Sokka hisses with sympathy as Zuko cusses a red streak and cradles his elbow to his chest. “That looked like it hurt,” he says quietly. 

“Yeah,” Zuko snaps. “No shit, Detective Sokka.” At Sokka’s wince, this one born of hurt rather than sympathy, Zuko finds himself melting. “Sorry,” he offers. “That was… unnecessary.” 

Sokka shrugs, drops back to sit on his heels. He’s still perched casually in the center of the hall, seeking Zuko’s eyes with his own. “Seriously, though. Why are you hiding out here?” 

“I hate it here.” Though that isn’t why he’s hiding here, it’s something to say, some truth he can share to appease the Alpha. 

“Here? In the Fire Nation?” 

“This palace.” He looks at the red walls, red curtains, black tile and detailing. “It’s ugly. An ugly reminder of ugly times.” 

“So change it.” 

Zuko can only blink a few times, trying to process what Sokka has just said. It isn’t so much the suggestion as the casualness with which it was said, the way he floated the idea like it was nothing. “I can’t just… _change_ the palace.” 

“Why not?” 

“It’s not mine?” 

Now it’s Sokka’s turn to look confused. “What do you mean it’s not yours? You’re the Fire Lord.” 

“I mean, yeah, but-- but it’s not _mine_.” 

“If it isn’t yours then who does it belong to?” Sokka grin grows slowly as he takes relish in Zuko floundering to come up with an answer. “Right. It’s yours, isn’t it?” 

“I-- I mean, technically, yes, but--” 

“So change it!” 

“I _can’t_!” 

“Zuko, you’re the only person on the planet who could!” 

“Sokka--” The Alpha raises a challenging eyebrow. Zuko rolls his eyes, tries to keep a straight face even as Sokka’s grin, contagious as always, grows broader. “I-- My nation is in the middle of a recession. A recession I’ve caused. I can’t just spend more money than I already am in reparations to redo the palace because I don’t like it.” 

“That’s literally the best and only reason to redo a palace.” 

“Doesn’t change the fact that I would need to spend money to do it. I have no money of my own. All the money going towards feeding me, clothing me, paying the staff? Tax dollars. My treasurer would hang me at the palace gates if I started to redo anything. It can wait.” 

“Not if it has you hiding in a dusty hallway when you should be eating dinner and resting.” 

And that’s what will always kill Zuko: Sokka is so genuine. He means every word he says. He wants the best for-- for everyone he cares about, and sometimes that includes Zuko. For the foreseeable future, that will include Zuko, and each time it will surprise and devastate him in equal measure. How is he ever supposed to get used to someone caring for him like this? Without thought for duty or honor? Without the ghost of a dead son to account for? Without a nation to put first? 

“Look,” Sokka says, filling the silence left by the earthquake of his goodness, “here’s how you sell it: social change begins with the example set by the Fire Lord. You no longer want the Fire Palace, or whatever the fuck this place is called, to be a symbol of repression and darkness. It will instead be a symbol of light and change. Or something vaguely poetic like that. And then you can have designs submitted by people across the Fire Nation. Get guilders and artisans from every nation involved. Aang would love some shit like that. He’d probably make you a massive portrait in macaroni art. And then, boom! A new palace, designed by the people! No more scary red… everything!” 

Zuko is back to blinking. “That… is actually crazy enough that it might work.” 

“That’s what they keep me around for! Now come on - you need to eat.” Sokka grins and Zuko is leveled once more.

{}

“When are you going to tell your Uncle?” 

Zuko looks up from the desk, vision swimming. He’s exhausted. He musters up a smile for Toph. “Hmm?” 

“When are you going to tell your Uncle that you’re pupping?” She says it with the kind of forced calm that makes Zuko’s spine itch. He hears it all day in meetings, then listens to it from his servants and friends, as though everyone is afraid to upset him in the slightest. He keeps forgetting he’s made of glass now. 

His grin grows brittle. “If I’m not mistaken, the official notice was released earlier today.” 

“And you think that’s enough? You aren’t going to, like… I don’t know. Personally tell him?” 

His brittle smile slips, falls completely. He gives into the urge to hide his face in his palms. His robes are bunched uncomfortably between his elbows and the desk, he’s craving octopus belly more than he ever has, and now Toph is demanding answers from him; answers he isn’t certain he can give.

“Toph--” 

“Hey,” She holds her hands up in surrender, finally softening and stepping further into the office. “I’m not exactly one to talk when it comes to family, okay? I get it. I’m just saying… I don’t know. I thought you and Uncle were okay.” 

Zuko sighs heavily. He gestures loosely to the seat in front of the desk. “Sit. The chair is about five paces directly in front of you.” 

Toph doesn’t comment, but carefully takes five steps and takes the seat once her hands find the back. Immediately, she kicks her feet up, draping her legs over one arm and bracing her back against the other. 

“Well?” She prods after a few moments have lapsed without conversation. “Are you going to talk to him? Visit him in Ba Sing Se?” 

“It’s not that simple. I’m Fire Lord; everything I do has… meaning. Symbolism. It’s bullshit, but there you have it. I can’t just _go_ places. Not even to visit my Uncle. It’s not like when I was a Prince, and I could leave the palace without anyone knowing for a few hours. The moment I leave, everyone will be on alert.” 

“That’s really interesting. Still doesn’t explain why you haven’t talked to him.” 

“Why do you care?! He isn’t your Uncle!” 

Toph raises a single eyebrow, flicking dirt from under her toenail onto Zuko’s desk. It isn’t even his desk. Fuck but he’s tired. 

“I just-- I don’t want you to-- you like to do things alone, Sparky. But I don’t think the whole having a pup thing is the sort of thing you want to do alone. And your Uncle is, like, the only person outside of me, Sokka, and probably Aang who would be in your corner no matter what.” 

_You’d be surprised_ , Zuko thinks mutinously. _You’d be surprised just how far from my corner I can push everyone. You’d be surprised how conditional love can be where I am involved. If Lu Ten were alive? If I were a girl as well as an Omega? If Suki and Sokka had mated after Boiling Rock? If I had stood idle while Azula did what I never had the nerve to do? If you were loved instead of coddled? I would be alone. I would be forgotten._

Outloud, he musters up a smile. “I appreciate you looking out for me. I still can’t just pop down to Ba Sing Se.” 

“Why not?” 

“Now you’re just being petulant.” Zuko rolls his eyes, knowing Toph can feel it in her soul even if she can’t see it with her feet. “Who would run the nation if I’m in Ba Sing Se? Who would be responsible if I’m three hours away in the middle of the Earth Kingdom. It’s a lovely idea, but it isn’t feasible just yet.” 

Toph sighs heavily, shifting to sit properly in the seat. “Well, when it is feasible, get your ass over there. Your Uncle deserves to hear the news from you - even if he’s already heard by the time you get there.” 

Zuko can only grunt, noncommittal at best, and return to his work. Toph slips away without another word. 


	3. two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Don’t say that you already do. Don’t tell him about the ever-bleeding wound in your chest. Don’t tell him that you’ll love him until the end of your days, that your heart will rip open every time you see him and you will lean into the burn because it reminds you that you are here and not so broken yet. Don’t tell him that each time you open your mouth, you have to hide how much you love him. Don’t tell him. Just hold him. Hold him closer, and memorize the way he feels against you. This is all you’ll ever have. Don’t you get it? This is all you have.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> happy wednesday!! this one... she's angsty. there's a lot of hurt here, i can't even front. but don't worry! the next chapter won't be so heavy! we've earned our canon character death tag (in reference to Kya AND Ursa) so if that's triggering to you, skip everything between "Zuko breathes deeply, glancing between the three Water Tribesmen before looking down to the paper in his hands." and "The silence is heavy between them, but the load is made easier to bear by Sokka's hand in his." thanks for reading!!!

Uncle corners him in the back room of the apartments. He’d slipped away in the hubbub of the reunion after the fresh ache of seeing Sokka and Suki in the same room, hoping to find some air. Instead, he was distracted by the view. Ba Sing Se is beautiful, of course, but it hasn’t yet healed from the wounds of liberation. There are still Fire Nation tanks in massive piles across the city, like jagged teeth sprouting from the ground, and the wall has yet to be repaired or replaced in certain sections. 

Still, the new peace corps is at work. Sokka and Zuko’s best idea yet, the conglomerate Earth Kingdom and Fire Nation troops work together in neutral, white robes to repair, remove, and replace materials and structures as needed. Their clean clothes are bright against the muted beiges and greens of the city. 

“It’s a wonderful view, is it not?” 

Zuko humms, lingering in the window a while longer before looking at his Uncle. He stands in the doorway, blue robes and slim silhouette so different from the last time Zuko saw him here. Things seemed so simple then, so straightforward and calm. They would stay in the Earth Kingdom, permanently refugees but permanently free. Now, they’re here. 

Neither of them seem to know where to begin. Zuko clears his throat. “It is; a beautiful view, I mean. Hopefully the view will improve as peace corps work carries on.” 

Uncle smiles. It seems to be more of a grimace. He gestures toward Zuko’s crest, more prominent now in his green robes. He’s dressed as an Earth Kingdom commoner as a sign of solidarity with the people of this bruised and beleaguered country. The dark green panel falls gently over his crest, heavy and warm in deference of the quickly coming fall. 

“You’re pupping,” Uncle says inanely. 

Zuko nods, feeling suddenly wrong-footed, unsure, out of place. “I am.” 

Uncle coughs out an uncomfortable laugh. “It’s hard to believe. I suppose I never saw this path for you.” 

Zuko forces an expression close to a smile across his face. “Well…” There’s nothing for him to say. He gestures inanely. 

“Sokka must be excited.” 

“Sokka?” 

Uncle clears his throat. “The pup’s sire.” 

“The pup’s sire is _dead_. I made certain of that.” Zuko feels terribly exposed, burning with something hotter than shame but not nearly hot enough for regret. 

Uncle’s expression crumbles, confusion blooming in his scent. “I don’t understand,” he begins slowly. “You-- Sokka isn’t--” 

“I killed my rapist,” Zuko acknowledges quietly, voice shaking and so far from the strength he would have preferred. The word is putrid on his tongue, threatening to overwhelm him. He swallows heavily. “The pup is mine. No one else’s.” 

Regret and surprise now dance and meld in Uncle’s scent. He leans heavily on the door, looking older now than he did mere moments ago. He scrubs a single hand down his face, the other buried in his robes. “Forgive me,” Uncle says quietly. “I’m just… surprised. You were always so strong--” 

“And that means I’m-- what? Incapable of being raped?” 

Uncle shrugs. “I forget, sometimes, that you are only an Omega.” 

Zuko rocks back on his heels. He’s been struck, even as Uncle stands far across the room. A flush blooms high on his cheeks. Even in his shock, he cannot say he’s surprised. “Of course,” he hisses. “I’m merely an Omega.” 

“Zuko, I didn’t--” 

“Mean it like that? Well then how _did_ you mean it?” 

Uncle flounders briefly, then clears his throat, schools himself into the picture of neutrality. _Just like an Alpha should be_ , something mean and petty snarls in his chest. _The picture of objectivity and calm to control the volatile Omega_. “I only meant that I had high expectations of you. Those expectations occasionally blinded me to the… realities of your designation.” 

“Realities,” Zuko says succinctly after a pregnant moment. “Expectations. Of course. Because Omegas cannot be held to a high standard. Because Omegas are lesser.” 

“Omegas are different. Not worse; just different.” 

“You can’t honestly believe yourself when you say that.” 

Sokka appears in the doorway behind Uncle, brow already furrowed. “Everything alright?” 

Zuko smiles tightly, something already loosening in his chest at the sight of him. “Yes,” he says smoothly. “We were just talking. I’ll be right out.” 

Sokka nods tightly, tapping the frame a few times and darting his eyes around, like there’s some aggravation he can subdue hiding in the corner. But the room is largely empty. He nods again and slips back to the party. 

Zuko and Uncle are left to look at one another, silence growing stale between them. Finally Zuko smiles tightly, sketching a bow. “Thank you for having us.” 

“Of course. My home is always open to you and your friends.” 

They stay looking at one another for a quiet moment, then Uncle is slipping away, leaving Zuko alone in the room once more. 

{}

Zuko looks around the room, listening with only half an ear as a self-important Earth Kingdom general lectures him with barely-concealed condescension about the necessary reparations he hopes to procure. Sokka catches his eye, brow furrowing in concern. _You okay?_ he mouths. 

Zuko nods his head distractedly, waiting with quickly waning patience for the Alpha to finish his tirade. He finds his gaze lingering on the place he sat just four years ago. Four years ago he’d spoken out of turn in this very room and been mutilated for it. Four years ago-- 

Sokka’s palm is warm and dry on his arm. The Alpha is leaning into his space, billowing protection and concern into the room. Zuko clears his throat, offers a bracing smile. Even the Earth Kingdom general has stopped his lecturing, something close to worry drifting across his face. 

“General Fong, I don’t need to be lectured to like a pup,” Zuko says simply, taking advantage of the silence to get in his point. “I am well aware of the harm done by my nation. I am also aware that these interior damages were more often done by the Earth Kingdom army itself, the result of their unchecked theft and destruction of property, and thus not the responsibility of the Fire Nation. But that is not a conversation for this moment. For now, follow me.” 

Without waiting for a response, Zuko begins the process of getting up from his kneeling position with entirely numb legs. Sokka offers an arm but Zuko waves him away. He can do this by himself. Once on his feet, he spares another look to the contours of the throne room. Three generations of Fire Lords have sat in the safety and luxury of this ugly hall and planned the destruction of countless lives. That legacy ends with him. 

Zuko clears his throat, looks down at the collected audience who are all looking at him with varying levels of concern and confusion. “Get up. We’re not having the rest of this meeting here.” 

Sokka, of course, is the first to pop up. He forewent his ceremonial robes today in favour of simpler Water Tribe blues, and thus isn’t weighed down and inhibited the same way the rest of his audience is. He looks gorgeous, of course, a spot of light in the sea of red darkness that surrounds them. Zuko averts his gaze. 

Around him councilmen and ambassadors struggle to their feet, piling scrolls into their arms and tucking inksticks and brushes into belts and folds of their robes, and generally looking like startled school-children. Zuko cannot help the smile that rises to his lips at the sight. When he risks a glance toward Sokka, the Alpha is already looking at him with a grin dancing across his lips. 

Zuko leads them from the North Wing to the South like a turtleduck with a string of heavily-robed turtleducklings trailing behind. Sokka walks at his side, opening doors and pushing aside curtains as need be. As they cross from the entrance hall, Sokka leans in. “Seriously, you okay?” 

Zuko nods sharply. 

“Are you sure?” Sokka’s hand is on his arm again, forcing him to slow down and look at the Alpha. Sokka has stuck closer than usual since their trip to Ba Sing Se, watching him like an eagle hawk and casually abusing his position as Ambassador to the Fire Nation to follow Zuko into every meeting and audience he holds. The attention has not yet become tiring, but Zuko thinks - fears - that Sokka will soon grow weary of Zuko’s temper, to say nothing of his relentless, often boring schedule. For now, Zuko leans into the touch, feels something closer to a real smile creep across his face. 

“Yeah, I’m sure. I-- lots of bad memories in that room. But. I’m never using that throne room again.” 

“Oh, yeah?” 

“Yep.” 

“And that’s why you’re taking us on a cross-country journey through the Fire Palace?” 

“Precisely.” 

It’s only a few more turns and a single set of stairs before they arrive at the room Zuko has been seeking. As Zuko pushes open the door, forcing it slightly, a wave of orangedew and dragon-rose accosts his senses. The scent is old but he would recognize it anywhere. Zuko stalls out in the doorway, overcome. Sokka comes up behind him, a single hand rubbing circles into his back. 

Zuko attempts a deep, steadying breath and accidentally takes in a lungful of his mother’s scent. His composure crumbles entirely. He buries his face in his hands, tries to breathe shallowly through the onslaught of tears and grief. He’s not nearly successful enough. Sokka is a warm refuge as he turns Zuko around and swallows him with his arms. He’s gotten taller since the last time he held Zuko, his chin now resting comfortably on the top of Zuko’s head. He says nothing, simply holds Zuko in the safety of his arms until Zuko feels ready to move forward again. 

Slowly, much more slowly than Zuko would have liked, he regains his composure. He pulls away from Sokka’s embrace, painfully aware of the eyes of every council member and a few ambassador’s on him. He focuses his eyes on Sokka’s shoulder, where a wet mark has been left from his tears. The silk of his sleeve is cooling on his face as he swipes away the tears and snot. 

“Do you want to adjourn the meeting?” Sokka asks quietly. 

Zuko shakes his head, tries to square his shoulders, nearly succeeds. “No,” he reiterates when Sokka gives him a look. “I’m okay. I just-- I’m okay. I want to continue.” 

Sokka eyes him for a moment longer, then nods. “Okay.” 

Another steadying breath. Zuko turns and faces the room. At first glance, it is unfamiliar, a collection of rugs, drapes, and low chairs that do not spark any memories. But as Zuko steps further into the space, moving toward the windows he knows are hiding behind heavy cream drapes, the room begins to piece itself back together in his mind. Some of the furniture has been moved, and certainly there are pieces that weren’t here when he was a pup. But he recognizes the tea table, where his mother taught him to play dragon’s cradle. He knows the line of that chaise, where he once curled up to sleep while hiding from his tutors. He remembers the chair he and Azula stood on, huddled together as their mother chased down and trapped a tiger salamander that has made its way into the room; remembers watching as she held it with care between her palms and released it through the window without harming the small creature. 

Once he’s yanked apart some of the curtains, removing the eerie, smokey glow from the space, even more familiarity returns. He moves carefully around the room, cognizant of his crest around the waist-high furniture, and pushes aside every curtain he can, revealing a beautiful view of the royal gardens just beyond the palace walls. 

When he turns around, Sokka is the only one to have ventured into the room. The rest of the audience is crowded around the door, wide eyes peeking into the room like curious children peeking into their parents’ chambers. Zuko sniffs as delicately as he can manage, wiping away the lingering wetness around his eyes, though he knows there’s nothing to be done for the redness that certainly rings his eyes and nose. 

“Come in,” he calls, waving in the audience with a huff. “The room doesn’t bite.” 

Slowly they filter in. Some of the councilmen clearly recognize the scent permeating the room, offering small bows in deference to the lost Fire Lady. 

Zuko begins pulling pillows and seats toward the center of the room, pushing other items of furniture away as he goes. “Give me a few moments,” he grunts, pushing a heavy dresser that has no business in this room toward a far wall. “This was something of an impromptu adventure.” 

“Would you-- Do you think it would be-- Certainly there are servants who could do this for you, Fire Lord Zuko. Surely--” Councilman Xi is only stopped by Sokka holding up his hand and shaking his head solemnly. 

“When he wants help, he’ll ask for it.” 

Zuko spares an appreciative glance, already hauling the shockingly heavy tea table toward the recently cleared space. “I’m not going to ask my _staff_ \--” he grunts, putting extra emphasis on the appropriate term. “I’m not going to ask them to do something I can very easily do myself.” 

Councilwoman Huang mutters something that sounds suspiciously like _this doesn’t look very easy_ but Zuko doesn’t have the energy to yell at her for it. Besides, he rationalizes, some sassing is probably good for the health of his council. He straightens up with a vaguely concerning pop in his back, already worn out. He gestures loosely to the pillows that now lie in a mess around the table. “Sokka, could you--” 

But the Alpha is already on it, easily scooping low to adjust the pillows to their appropriate locations and muttering about designing something or other. 

Their ruckus has attracted a few staff members, who now stand in the doorway peeking in with wide eyes. Zuko accidentally catches one of their eyes. She straightens up quickly, bowing low; a new hire then. “Excuse me,” he calls. “I’m sorry, I don’t know your name yet.” 

In the pause, the poor girl freezes, unsure of what to say. Finally, another staff member elbows her hard in the ribs “Oh! I’m Lixue, my lord.” 

Zuko waves. “Hi, Lixue. Could you find some other staff and fetch us…” He pauses to count heads. “Mmm, bring us six pots of tea - five jasmine and one ginger, please.” Sokka inhales quickly. Zuko rolls his eyes, already knowing what the Alpha will ask. “Yes, Sokka, you can share the ginger tea with me.” 

Sokka pumps his fists in the air. Zuko fights a smile. 

He meets Lixue’s eyes once again, noting that she looks vaguely similar to Ty Lee. “Thank you,” he says quietly, hoping the girl will take it as a dismissal so he doesn’t have to go through the awkward _you’re dismissed but please don’t think I’m an autocrat. I promise I’m nice_ song and dance. Thankfully, she goes with a quick bow, hauling two of her friends with her. The remaining two, boys who look not much older than Zuko, step smoothly into the room, flanking the door and taking on neutral, professional expressions. 

Around Zuko, the council and General Fong stand awkwardly, shifting on their feet and waiting for instruction. 

“Sit!” Zuko flaps his hands, shooing them all towards the tea-table. “Sit! Why are you standing around like hog monkeys scratching their balls?” 

Sokka snorts, dropping down easily to a seat close to Zuko’s place. Somewhere between horror and bemusement, each council member takes a seat, leaving a single seat open to General Fong directly across from Zuko. The Alpha drops awkwardly to his seat, desperately looking anywhere but Zuko. 

“As I was saying,” Zuko begins lightly. “Do not let my age fool you, General Fong. I am not a pup, and I am certainly not stupid. I am well aware of what my military has and has not done, and I’ve seen first hand conditions during the war in the interior of the Earth Kingdom. In a week’s time, the entire standing military of the Fire Nation will be dissolved, the manpower divided between peace corps work across the world, and national guards in the Fire Nation. We’ve already provided more in reparations payments than we really should have, given the recession our nation has entered. We are no longer a threat to the Earth Kingdom, and everyone here knows it. So what are you _really_ trying to accomplish?” 

{}

Zuko pulls to a halt, blinking numbly at the sight before him. “What is all of this?” 

Sokka emerges from behind a large pile of letters, a dopey grin on his face. “Entries!” 

Zuko, very briefly but with great relish, considers strangling the Alpha outright. “Entries to _what_?” 

“The design competition!” Toph emerges from another pile, a similarly happy expression on her face. “Duh!!”

“How do you know that?! You can’t read!!” 

She shrugs. “I can feel the different designs on the seals and sort them into piles by nation, though.” 

Zuko pauses. “That’s-- that’s actually a great point. Carry on.” She sticks her tongue out at him and returns to her sorting. 

Sokka hauls himself out of the pile, jogging across Zuko’s chamber to reach him in the doorway. “So, as you can see, the response has been huge. But, don’t even worry about it! Toph and I can handle this.” 

“Isn’t the point that _I_ like the designs?” 

“Sure! But Toph and I know your taste. We’ll sort through the stuff that you definitely _wouldn’t_ like, and then all you’ll have to do is sort through that smaller pool and make a decision from that!” 

“That-- How-- I didn’t even know an announcement went out. How did you get clearance for this?” 

“Well, I talked to Advisor Yu--” 

“You know Advisor Yu? Since when?!” 

“Since I introduced myself to him two weeks ago!” 

Zuko rubs his eyes harder than he probably should. “Let me get this straight. You just… _walked_ up to Advisory Yu and he just gave you the go-ahead? No questions asked??” 

Sokka winces, attempts a charming smile. “I may have told him it was a surprise for you?” 

“You _lied_ to the Minister of Palace Finances and Co-Chair of the National Treasury?!” 

“Only a little?” 

Zuko takes a very calming breath and returns to his strangulation fantasy. “What did you even say to Advisor Yu? He’s the most crotchety old man I’ve ever met. I can barely get two copper pieces for a pot to piss in without him throwing a fit!” 

Sokka shrugs again, suddenly happy to look anywhere but Zuko. “I-- Okay, don’t be mad-- I…” He takes a centering breath only to begin speaking so fast Zuko almost can’t understand him. “ImayhavetoldhimIwasgivingintomyAlphaurgestoprovideadenformyOmegabut--” 

“YOU TOLD HIM I WAS YOUR _WHAT_?!” 

“Sooo this is starting to sound like a private conversation,” Toph says from her perch in a nest of letters. “And I would just like to remind everyone that I am still here.” 

“YES, THANK YOU TOPH, WE KNOW YOU’RE STILL HERE!” 

“HEY! MAYBE DON’T BE A TOTAL JERK AND YELL AT ME BECAUSE YOU'RE UPSET THAT SOKKA WAS AN IDIOT, ASSHOLE!” 

Zuko takes a deep breath, jerking away when Sokka lays a steadying hand on his arm. “You’re right, Toph,” he begins, forcing a levelness into his tone. “I’m sorry for yelling. Would you leave us for a moment?” 

Toph shrugs. “Sure,” she says gamely. “Don’t kill Sokka, he’s fun to prank.” 

“Don’t you mean prank _with_ ,” Sokka asks.

“Nope,” she says, popping the last syllable obnoxiously as she passes them. “I meant exactly what I said. Later!” 

Zuko steps deeper into the room, accidentally wading through a small pile of letters he couldn’t see over his crest. He swears, nudges them back into a pile with his toe. “So you lied to my Minister of Palace Finances--” 

“Played upon his preconceived notions of--” 

“You _lied_ to my Minister of Palace Finances,” Zuko insists, sending a quelling look toward the Alpha. “And told him you were my mate. What on Agni’s green earth could have _possibly_ compelled you to do that?” 

Sokka wrings his hands. “I-- I wanted to make this as easy as possible for you. I-- You’ve been a little… distant? Since your talk with Iroh? And I-- I really did want to surprise you. I wanted to do something nice and I know you don’t like it here, so I thought-- I don’t know? I just went along with what Advisor Yu already thought and let him drag me along with Admiral Chin to get everything ready. It didn’t matter what I had to say so long as we could get this process started and make this space nicer for you.” 

Through years of practice, Zuko is able to hold in the wounded sound that threatens to claw its way out of his chest. _Of course he had to say it_ , he thinks bitterly. _Of course he was dragged along. It wasn’t real. It would never be real. He’d never--_

“But it _does_ matter, Sokka,” he pushes out. “It does matter what you say. You won’t-- If anyone in the palace gets the idea that you’re my mate, especially someone like Advisor Yu, it-- it will be incredibly difficult for you to leave after the pup is born. You would be tied to the Fire Nation, indelibly linked to me. There wouldn’t be a choice for you anymore. You would have wildly reduced authority, not to mention added responsibility to the citizens of the Fire Nation as-- as Fire Gentleman? Fire Mate? Whatever. Mate of the Fire Lord. That’s-- You don’t want that.” 

Sokka winces, looks away to rub the back of his neck. “I-- I hadn’t thought about that.” 

_Of course he hadn’t. Why would he think through the ramifications of actually being my mate. He doesn’t want that, made perfectly clear that he could never want me that way. I’m just--_

Zuko shakes his head. “It’s fine. I just-- I just don’t want you to find yourself in a position you never intended to be in.” 

Sokka gives him a weird look, but the moment passes when he looks away at the room around them. “I’m sorry I-- Look, I know you want to be independent. I’m sorry I let Advisor Yu think that wasn’t the case.” 

_What??_

“Anway,” Sokka says with a heavy sigh. “The announcement went out. These have been piling up in the mailroom, being sorted through to ensure there wasn’t, like, poison on them or anything? I don’t know the specifics. There’s still way more down there that haven’t been cleared for safety yet. Toph and I have spent most of the afternoon sorting by nation and then sorting again by whether we thought you’d like them.” 

Zuko nods, looking around the room. He bites his lip. He already feels guilty for losing his temper, especially since Sokka was just trying to be nice. “Do you want to show me some options?” 

Sokka grins, face suddenly brighter than the sun. “Yes! Absolutely! Okay, so there’s still so many submissions to go through, like I said. This is just the first round. But--” He pauses to look around the room, then dives for a pile, seemingly at random. “Are these the… yes! Okay! Here’s a suggestion for recreating the throne room into a ballroom? The Palace doesn’t have a dance hall of any kind, and personally I think this is a great use of the space. Think about the high ceilings, and how nice they would sound with music!” 

Zuko lets Sokka babble on excitedly and thrust various sketches and descriptions in his face, sinking down to rest on a settee in the far corner. He smiles gamely, acknowledging that some of the designs are beautiful, but he’s only paying attention with half a mind. The other half is frantically counting the weeks until his pup will be here; the weeks until Sokka leaves, and Zuko is alone once more. 

{}

Zuko smells him before he sees him. When he looks up, Sokka is standing in the doorway, arms folded across his chest, brow already furrowed in concern. “I would ask if you were okay, but I happen to like my head attached to my body.” 

Zuko coughs out a laugh. It’s wetter than he would have liked. “Wise of you.” But then he’s thinking about Uncle, and how he always seemed to wise, and the tears begin to fall again. “Agni,” he grumbles. “I’m so tired of crying. I feel like all I do is cry, and I’m not even that sad!” 

Sokka makes a commiserative sound. “I don’t know if this will cheer you up, but Katara and Dad are here.” 

“Fuck!” Zuko frantically swipes at his eyes, sniffing hard. He pushes to his feet. “Okay, fuck, I didn’t know that. I must have forgotten, or-- but that’s no excuse. I’ll be right-- uhm, where are they? Give me a second and I’ll meet them there. Sorry. Spirits, I’m losing my tiles.” 

But Sokka is holding up a hand. “Woah, woah, woah, Zuko. Relax. They’re-- they can wait. Why are you weepy?” 

“I’M NOT WEEPY!” 

Sokka raises a single eyebrow. 

“DON’T LOOK AT ME LIKE THAT!”

Without missing a beat, Sokka closes his eyes, eyebrow still lifted in the picture of skepticism. 

Zuko groans obnoxiously, but he’s already fighting a laugh. “Don’t be an asshole,” he laughs. “I’m not weepy! I’m just-- I’m a mess.” 

Sokka softens, stepping fully into the office. The space is a disaster, Zuko’s usual untidiness combined with moving and redecorating efforts creating a shit storm of paint canisters, bolts of fabric, and papers strewn across every conceivable, moderately-flat surface. With a heavy sigh, Sokka sets about sorting and parsing through the nearest pile of parchment. 

“You’re aren’t a mess, you’re pupping. That does… weird things with your emotions.” 

“And you know this from first hand experience?” 

Sokka rolls his eyes. “Ha ha, very funny.” 

“I’m hilarious,” Zuko shoots back, making a valiant attempt to neaten up his desk. 

“You are,” Sokka says, much quieter and more sincere than Zuko ever expected. He looks up, shocked, and catches Sokka’s eye. The Alpha holds his gaze for a long moment, warm and sincere in the low lamplight, then looks away. Zuko looks back to his desk, happy for the reprieve, and prays the flush of his cheeks will be mistaken for the flush of his tears. 

They clear their throats in unison, chancing awkward, sheepish looks at one another. 

“So, seriously,” Sokka begins, moving to the next pile. “What’s got you so upset.” 

Zuko sighs heavily, looking at the folded parchment sitting in the corner of his desk. “Uncle wrote.” 

“Oh?” 

Zuko sighs heavily. “I-- I don’t know. I don’t know how to feel.” 

A sympathetic noise. “Have you opened it?” 

“No.” 

“Mmm. What happened in Ba Sing Se, anyway?” 

For a brief, heart-stopping moment, Zuko thinks Sokka is talking about the war, about what happened to get him here, how he ended up pupping in the first place. But then Sokka is glancing at him, clarifying he meant just under a month ago. “I mean, you disappeared from the party, and then you started smelling… angry? Sad? So I went to investigate, but Iroh was with you?” 

Zuko sighs heavily, shakes out his hands like that will help him shake off the wave of anxiety that nearly drowned him moments ago. “It-- I don’t know. I guess it was awkward because we both know that, mathematically, I had to have been pupping when we all met up in Ba Sing Se before Sozin’s Comet. I had the chance to tell him then, and I didn’t. But then I explained that-- that the sire isn’t in the picture. That he’s dead.” Zuko clears his throat, studiously looking down and skipping past the part where Uncle thought _Sokka_ was the sire. He doesn’t think he could bear the weight of disgust on Sokka’s face at the notion that he sired Zuko’s pup, no matter what lies he told Advisor Yu. “Anyways,” he continues after a gruff cough. “He-- I told him I killed my rapist, and--" 

Zuko looks up at Sokka’s quick inhale. The Alpha shakes his head, urges him on in a movement something close to frantic. “It’s nothing,” Sokka insists when Zuko makes a face. “I just-- It’s different to hear you say it than to-- to assume. I just-- Spirits, I’m so sorry it ever happened to you. I’m sorry you were even put in that situation in the first place. I know that doesn’t cut it and it doesn’t really mean anything because, who am I? I’m just some random A. But, still-- nobody should ever have to live through that.” 

“You aren’t some random Alpha.” _Those words are too close to the truth, aren’t they?_ Zuko looks away from the wildfire in Sokka’s eyes like that will cover the chasm of mingled hope and fear in his chest he’s just revealed. Spirits, how could he be so stupid? He clears his throat again, takes in a deep, shaky breath. 

“Uhm,” he begins. “Like I said. I said I killed my-- my rapist. But then Uncle says, ‘Sorry, I’m surprised,’ meaning he was surprised I was raped. But then, he goes, ‘I just thought you were so strong’--” 

“What does _that_ have to do with anything?” 

“EXACTLY!” 

Sokka shakes his head, sighs heavily. “Yikes.” 

“Yikes, right? So I said just that: what does that have to do with anything? I’m strong so I can’t be raped? And he goes, and this is a direct quote - ‘I forget, sometimes, that you are only an Omega’.” 

Zuko nods at Sokka’s flabbergasted expression, feeling sickly gratified. “Yes. He said that to my face. And then he had the nerve to be surprised when I was like ‘hey, what the actual fuck is _that_ supposed to mean!’ I mean, I didn’t say that exactly, but-- What the hell was I supposed to say? So I just repeated what he said, hoping that he would see how shitty that was to say. And then he pulls the ‘Omegas are different, not worse’ card, like that’s supposed to make me feel better.” 

Zuko runs out of steam, but Sokka picks up the slack. “I can’t believe he would _say_ something like that! And right to your face! You’re _literally_ the first Omega Fire Lord; you prove that Omegas can do everything A’s can do while literally growing a pup - not than anyone who’s ever actually interacted with an Omega would need to be shown that, but! Still! You’re _doing_ the thing! That-- Honestly, it’s a little disappointing to hear. I really thought Iroh was cool.” 

Zuko shrugs. “I mean-- I don’t know. He was always kinda gross with other O’s, especially women O’s. And I tried to ignore it, but it was at every turn. Like he thought Azula needed to be killed, when she’s literally a fourteen-year-old pup. The way she is… that isn’t her fault. If anything, she’s _his_ fault, because he should have just kidnapped her when I was banished and brought her along. But--” he sighs heavily. “That’s another story.” 

“One I’m going to get out of you,” Sokka threatens idly. 

Zuko rolls his eyes. “Not right now. I’m on a roll and there’s more of this story to tell!” Sokka holds up his hands in the universal sign of surrender, then waves him on. “Okay, so, before he said the whole ‘Omegas are different’ thing he says ‘Well, I just had such high expectations of you. They blinded me to the realities of your designation’.” 

When Sokka fails to react appropriately, Zuko extrapolates. “Basically, he was saying he forgot that Os take knots. I was so ‘strong’ and ‘independent’ that I was immune from wanting an Alpha. He forgot that I could want sex. He forgot that I could have desire. He forgot that I could be raped. As long as I didn’t want things ‘normal’ Os wanted, I could be held to high standards and expectations. As long as I hid everything that was Omega about me away, I could be perfect and good. But the moment I was an O, the moment that I wanted or needed something a traditional O might need or want, the second something happened to me that could happen to any Omega I was--” 

He cuts off, momentarily overcome. “I’m _not_ crying again tonight. I _won’t._ But it’s-- it’s so frustrating when As can chase tail, and knot whoever they want, and-- and nobody looks at them differently for being an Alpha. Nobody will treat you like a child for wanting something Alphas want. Spirits, you _suggested_ that you wanted to make me a nest and the Minister of Palace Finances _tripped_ over himself to make it happen.” 

When Zuko chances a look at Sokka, he finds the Alpha frozen, a stricken expression on his face. “Spirits, Zuko,” he says quietly. “I-- I feel like I keep saying the same thing but, I’m _so_ sorry. I-- I can’t even imagine the shit you must have faced. And to hear that you had to-- to _hide_ your _nature_ to be loved and respected--” 

“He loved me--” Zuko begins weakly.

“Yeah, when you weren’t an Omega! When you weren’t yourself!” 

Zuko can only shrug weakly, feeling small and quiet and sad in ways he hasn’t felt in years. “It wasn’t so bad. I-- Would you think it too self-pitying if I said I’m used to it?” 

A low, mournful sound rolls in gravel and emerges from Sokka’s chest. “Zuko,” he begins quietly. 

Zuko shakes his head. “Don’t-- I turned out fine.” 

“I mean, compared to Azula, sure. But, Zuko, you _know_ that doesn’t mean that the way Iroh treated you was okay, right?” 

Zuko shakes his head. “You’re-- I was-- Uncle treated me well, okay? He did. Was he imperfect? Sure. But no parent is perfect. Not one. I-- I know that well. And it’s not like I was the easiest pup to raise.” 

“Zuko, that isn’t an excuse.” Sokka sounds so sad, so resigned, that Zuko finds himself drawing the Alpha into a hug instead of the other way around. He rubs circles into the A’s back, letting him draw in cool breaths of his scent. 

“I’m so sorry he ever made you feel that you needed to hide yourself to be loved,” Sokka begins, so quietly and sincerely that Zuko nearly breaks apart again. “I’m _so sorry_ , Zuko. I-- I never want you to feel that way again.” 

_Don’t say it,_ he begs himself. _Don’t say that you already do. Don’t tell him about the ever-bleeding wound in your chest. Don’t tell him that you’ll love him until the end of your days, that your heart will rip open every time you see him and you will lean into the burn because it reminds you that you are here and not so broken yet. Don’t tell him that each time you open your mouth, you have to hide how much you love him. Don’t tell him. Just hold him. Hold him closer, and memorize the way he feels against you. This is all you’ll ever have. Don’t you get it? This is all you have._

{}

Zuko breathes deeply, glancing between the three Water Tribesmen before looking down to the paper in his hands. It’s been nearly a week since the other members of Sokka’s family arrived, but he’s still acclimating to Chief Hakoda’s presence, the way he seems to suck all the air out of the room. Or, maybe he doesn’t, maybe Zuko is just used to breathing less when Alphas are involved, when fathers and sons are together. 

He clears his throat. “I’m so glad you three were able to find time to, uhm, to meet with me.” He winces, recognizing how formal and stiff he sounds and begins again. “In my review of Fire Nation military records, I found information that was-- information that affects your family in particular. I wasn’t looking for this information, but once I found it I knew it was my responsibility, both as Fire Lord and as-- as your friend to tell you personally.” 

Zuko pauses to look over his audience of three. They stare back at him with the same open, confused expression on their faces. He looks back to his lap, the twin maps folded in his palms. “On the day the Southern Raiders attacked the Southern Water Tribe,” he begins quietly, “they were under direct orders from the Fire Lord to take no prisoners.” 

Grief, fresh and stinging despite the years passed, lances across Chief Hakoda’s face. Sorrow is crawling across Sokka’s features, but Katara’s expression remains stubbornly expectant. 

“Your records must be wrong.”

“Katara--” Hakoda reaches out to take his daughter’s hand, but she pulls away sharply, rocking almost so far as to tip into Sokka on her other side. 

“No, they-- they have to be wrong! I watched them take her prisoner. I watched them march her away!” 

Zuko nods. “It’s true they marched her to the ship. Reports from the ship indicate that she was taken and-- and executed on board.” 

Sokka winces, looking away from both sibling and parent to breathe deeply and stare at the floor. Hakoda catches Zuko’s gaze and holds it, grief billowing away from him and pulling at Zuko’s heart. “I’m so sorry. Truly, I-- I understand how difficult this news must be.” 

“No you don’t,” Katara spits. Hakoda winces at the barely concealed venom in Katara’s voice, and Sokka reaches out to hold her, but she ignores both of them. “You don’t! You could never understand, you spoiled, sheltered--!!” Her voice shatters into a scream of grief. 

The silence left in the wake of her wail is only punctuated by her sobs. Zuko winces, looking down at the maps like they will offer him guidance. They do not. He unfolds them carefully and spreads them across the floor between them. 

“It is a long, convoluted story that does not bear sharing today. But my mother also bartered her life for mine. So yes, I do understand some of your pain. And believe me when I say, it would be my honor to use the considerable, if tainted, resources of the Fire Nation to honor this one of many Southern Water Tribe war heroes.” 

Sokka looks readily at the map, drawing it closer with a single finger. Hakoda holds Katara to his chest, but looks on from a distance. 

Zuko pulls a straight pin from his robes and lays the maps atop one another, carefully squaring their edges. “Lady Kya was given a burial at sea at approximately 81.5°S and 13°W, which would be here.” He marks the location with a headless pin, carefully pulling the transparent longitude and latitude map away to show the pin’s location in better detail. “I-- I don’t know the rituals associated with death in the Southern Water Tribe. I plead complete ignorance. But if you-- if it would ease your grief, we could establish a constant vigil at this location. Or if you would rather not have Fire Navy ships so close to shore, we could arrange for ships to bring food, water, and fuel - or whatever you deem necessary - at set intervals to Southern Water Tribe ships. Or something else entirely. Whatever you would like, I-- I would like to make it happen. Both as Fire Lord making reparations and as a friend, who knows the grief of losing a mother.” 

They sit in silence for long minutes, all of them staring at the map and the single pin marking an early grave off the Western coast of the South Pole. Finally, Zuko rises to his knees then, awkwardly, to his feet. He bows deeply. “I’ll leave you be.”   
  


Sokka finds him on the floor of his office, back supported by the wooden monstrosity his father called a desk, scrolls scattered on the floor around him. A single lamp rests on the floor, dimmed in deference to his headache. 

The Alpha enters without announcing himself and sits heavily on the floor beside Zuko. Without speaking, he leans over, rests his head on Zuko’s shoulder. Also without speaking, Zuko sets aside his scroll. He reaches out and, after a moment of hesitation, takes Sokka’s hand in his own. Like a bear cub, Sokka’s hands are still so much larger than his body, the sign of a teen still growing into a man. Slowly, Zuko warms his hands and begins massaging Sokka’s hand, working out the knots and kinks from hours of writing and sword training. 

“Tell me the story,” Sokka says, apropos of nothing. 

“The story of what?” 

“The story of your mother’s sacrifice.”

Zuko’s hands go numb around Sokka’s. The Alpha shifts to grip his hand, palm warm and dry around Zuko’s smaller digits. With a shaky breath, Zuko grips back. He takes a deep breath and begins. 

“Uncle was the Crown Prince of the Fire Nation, as was his birthright as the eldest son. His mate died pupping, but his son, Lu Ten, survived. Lu Ten was Uncle’s pride and joy, and a brilliant cousin to me. Years pass, life happens, blah blah blah. Uncle leads the siege of Ba Sing Se. His son, who served in the military and was part of the siege, was killed. Uncle did not know until weeks later, only finding out after his son was already burned with the other soldiers killed in action.” 

“Burned?” 

“In the Fire Nation, the dead are burned on a pyre. The ashes are then collected and buried, usually with a plant or tree so the dead may give life. In battles, where there are many deaths, the dead are burned together as a sign of comradeship and to stop the dead from piling. As a member of the royal family, Lu Ten’s remains should have been separated and returned to Caldera, where he could receive a burning and burial appropriate for his station. 

“Uncle was… crushed isn’t a great enough word to describe his grief and despair. He felt that he was responsible for his son’s death by leading this siege, and was overcome with pain. He abandoned his post as general and went away into the Spirit World.” At Sokka’s palpable shock, Zuko laughs. “Yeah. Uncle just decided he was going into the Spirit World one day, and that’s exactly what he did. Anyway, back in Caldera, nobody was going into the Spirit World. Father approached Azulon and suggested that he take Uncle’s birthright, since Uncle no longer had an heir and had disgraced the Fire Nation by showing weakness and abandoning his post.

“Grandfather was furious. He suggested that Father kill his own first born to know the pain of losing a son. Father was going to do it. It was common knowledge, even then, that Father despised me. He thought I was weak and a disappointing excuse for a first born son, and felt that Azula should have my place in the line of succession. He used to tell me that Azula was born lucky, but I was lucky to be born. Anway. In his mind, killing me was a perfect move. But my mother stepped in. She-- Okay, don’t freak out. But technically, I’m Aang’s great grandson.” 

Slowly, Sokka sits up and looks at him. “Sorry, I think I briefly hallucinated. Can you say that one more time?” 

Zuko can’t help the giggle that escapes him. “Yeah. My mother is Avatar Roku’s granddaughter, making me Avatar Roku’s great grandson, and therefore, in a weird way, Aang’s great grandson.” 

Sokka blinks very hard a few times, then turns again and returns his head to its place on Zuko’s shoulder. “I have no idea how to process that, so I’m just not going to. Continue your story, please.” 

Zuko laughs, then reaches to pick up Sokka’s other hand, massaging it in the same, even strokes he’d applied to the first hand. “Okay, so Father is going to kill me but my mom steps in. She has-- or had, I suppose, a lot of soft power both as Avatar Roku’s granddaughter and as the Fire Lady. Nobody liked Father. Not even Azulon liked him. But everyone liked my mother. When Father couldn’t force something to happen, Mother would smooth the way. I’m not saying she always smoothed the way for good things to happen. Most of the time, she made it easier to get support for violent imperialistic action. But she knew her power, so she made a deal with Father. She would make him Fire Lord if he left me alone. 

“Now, here’s where it gets… weird, I suppose. From my best understanding, my mother talked Grandfather into making Father Fire Lord, then killed him. She killed Azulon, making it possible for Father to become Fire Lord immediately, before Uncle returned and could challenge him in an Agni Kai for the throne. That’s the easy part; or straightforward part, I suppose. 

“But then Father’s first imperial order, before he was even officially crowned, was to banish Mother under threat of death. That’s the part I’ll never understand. It made far more political sense for him to keep her close, to better keep her quiet. My suspicion, something I haven’t been able to prove even with access to all the records, is this: Ozai banished her so that, while she was on the run, he could send mercenaries after her and kill her. Dead women keep secrets better than those kept under even the most powerful thumb.” 

Zuko breathes deeply, if shakily, slowly releasing the vice grip he has on Sokka’s hand. “Sorry.” 

Sokka just shakes his head, squeezes Zuko’s hand gently. Zuko toys with the Alpha’s long fingers, manipulating the joints aimlessly as he finishes his story. “Like I said, I haven’t been able to confirm that. Even though I was, ostensibly, in the middle of it, much of this scheme was kept in the dark and happened quickly for obvious reasons. The few records available show a private audience with Lady Ursa the same night Fire Lord Azulon died, then a premature royal order. I remember-- The night she was banished, Mother came into my room and accidentally woke me up as she was saying goodbye. I don’t think she even knew I was conscious when she told me she loved me, told me to never forget who I was, and turned away.” 

Another shaky breath. Another squeeze to his hand. “At this point there were army checkpoints on every road, major and minor, across the island,” he continues quietly. “There’s no way she would have gotten through or past one without some log of her presence, and there was no way to get on or off the island without identification. So the fact that there’s no record of her on that night, or any night in the month after that night… The chances are high that she was killed even before reaching the first checkpoint.” 

The silence is heavy between them, but the load is made easier to bear by Sokka’s hand in his. Hesitantly, Zuko rests his head atop Sokka’s, inhales shallowly to take in Sokka’s scent of wild berries and fresh snow. 

“That’s what you were looking for,” Sokka surmises, “when you found the information about--” 

“Yeah. Yes. I miss her everyday,” Zuko admits. “Even more now than before. I know she loved me right to her end. And I know your mother loved you too. She was thinking of _both_ of her pups as she was marched away. I know she was.” 

Sokka’s exhale is controlled, even, but it cannot cover the feeling of tears hitting Zuko’s shoulder, the jump in his chest, the crumbling of his shoulders. 

“Thank you,” Sokka finally croaks. “I-- I needed that.” 

Zuko simply squeezes his palm, sits with him in the soft, aching silence. 

{}

Zuko’s advisor’s are understandably shocked when a petite, blind thirteen year old, freshly presented as an Omega, comes stomping into Zuko’s office. Toph is flushed and clearly irritable already. Zuko sighs but finds he doesn’t actually have it in him to be upset that she’s interrupted his meeting. Is this how Uncle felt every time Zuko did this? She stomps all the way up to Zuko and crosses her arms over her chest over her chest in a motion that could only be described as angsty. 

“You need to come have lunch with me.” 

Zuko raises his eyebrows. “Do I, now?” 

“Yes. You haven’t been eating enough; Sugar Queen ratted you out. You need to eat and I’m hungry. It’s lunchtime.” 

“I’m in the middle of a meeting, Toph.” 

“DO I LOOK LIKE I GIVE A FLYING FUCK ABOUT YOUR STUPID GODDAMN MEETING?!” 

Zuko relishes in the silence left in the wake of her outburst. “No, not particularly,” he says with a quiet laugh. “Come sit for a few moments. We’ll wrap up the last few things and then we can hang out the rest of the afternoon.” 

Councilwoman Lin Yan clears her throat carefully. She’s a Beta, reserved in most matters, but she has a quick wit and an easy calm about her that reminds Zuko of Uncle. “Fire Lord Zuko, you have a meeting with the Interior Ministers of Agriculture in the afternoon.” 

He turns his head to look at her, taking in her green eyes with a calm smile. “Do I look like I give a flying fuck about that stupid goddamn meeting, Councilwoman Lin Yan?” 

She freezes for a moment, then smiles indulgently and huffs out a quiet laugh. “No, my lord. You do not.” 

“I’m glad we’ve come to that conclusion. Were there any more thoughts on reparation shipments to the Kyoshi Islands before we moved onto the next point?” 

Toph stands vigil for the rest of the meeting, even withholding comment when it runs over a few minutes. Zuko doesn’t even have to ask Toph to help him to his feet. Her hand is there, just within his line of sight, waiting for him to lean on her for support. He takes the help provided, thankful when she says nothing in the aftermath. She suffers through the song and dance of each advisor bowing to him, clearly losing patience with every advisor. By the end she is practically snarling. Zuko simply tucks her under his arm, tugging her close. Her scent isn’t particularly sweet, but neither is his. He’s still trying to pin down what she reminds him of when she speaks up. 

“Green tea.” 

“Hmm?”

“Green tea. That’s what you’re smelling that’s familiar. My mom used to brew it all the time. She seemed to think that if I drank enough I would become civilized and dainty.” 

“I see that turned out wonderfully.” 

Toph’s punch lands hard on his arm, but she’s grinning, so he’ll take it as a win. 

Without any conscious input, Zuko’s feet have guided them to the turtleduck pond. He sits carefully at the water’s edge, peeling his stuffy shoes off with a sigh of relief. Beside him Toph does the same, but immediately submerges her feet in the water. 

The turtleducks come swimming forward, curious and ready to greet their esteemed guests. With careful fingers Toph reaches out, sweeping her hand lower and lower until she feels the soft head of one turtleduck. The creature obediently pauses, quacking happily, and pushes into her fingers for more attention. Meanwhile four ducklings are attempting to crawl directly into Zuko’s lap and pecking gently at his fingers for breadcrumbs he doesn’t have to offer. 

“What’s being an Omega like?” 

Zuko would think that after being friends with Toph for months, he would be used to her ambush style of questioning. He isn’t. He blows out a hard breath, extending his feet into the water and falling back onto his elbows. A chilly autumn wind rushes past them, slipping through the heavy robes to cool his skin. 

“Well… I’m not really sure how to answer that question. I’ve never been anything else so I can’t compare it to anything. But.” He shrugs awkwardly. “I think being an Omega can be tough sometimes, because it can feel like the whole world is demanding that you be one thing when what you want is to be another. The world around you expects you to be soft and needy, but you want to be independent. Your friends and family expect you to be weepy but you just feel horny and tired. So it can be weird in that way. But it’s also pretty awesome. You can surprise people, a lot, just by being exactly who you are. Pups like to be around you, which is nice.” 

Toph wrinkles her nose. “Pups are gross.” 

“Says the pup.” 

Toph leans over and shoves him. He rolls with the motion, laughing broadly. Even Toph is having a hard time keeping a straight face. “I just had my first heat! I am officially pup-no-longer” 

He settles back onto his back, shifting his robes so they don't hang heavily to one side of his crest. “That’s not true and we both know it. It’ll still be a few years before your heats are regular and stuff. You still have some growing to do, some life to live. You aren’t an adult quite yet. Nice try, though.” 

“I’ll have you know, I played a crucial role in saving the world.”

“Congratulations! Still a pup.” 

She lets it go with a huff, but he doesn’t miss the way she shifts closer to him, so close that if she wanted she could tuck herself under his arm. He doesn’t offer it; not yet, anyway. She’ll seek his affection when she wants it, and he’s more than happy to wait. 

“Are you scared?” she asks after the turtleducks have wandered away. “Of having the pup alone?” 

_Yes_ , he thinks. _I am desperately terrified of doing this alone. Every morning I wake up and wonder how I will care for a pup, give them a love I was not given, hold them with arms that were not held. Each time I stop to think about it I wonder if I’ve made a terrible mistake in keeping this pup._

But he holds his tongue and stares into the sky. “Yeah,” he finally admits. “I’m really scared. But I’m not alone. Sokka will be there, for the birth at least. As far as I know, Mai and Ty Lee are traveling up to visit once the pup is born. Uncle--” he trips over his words, gets his bearings soon enough. “Uncle will probably be here for a short while. I-- I’m not alone. Not really. Even if none of you were here… I think I’d still be okay. Plenty of Omegas pup and rear all by themselves. At the end of the day, I don’t really have a choice.” He pauses, shocked by his own words.

“Woah. That sounds-- that sounded really scary,” he admits, more to himself than Toph, though she huffs a breath of acceptance. “Sorry. I just meant-- look. I _had_ a choice. I could have stopped the pupping early, and for a while I thought hard about doing just that. In the end, I decided I was going to have a pup. I didn’t have a plan. I certainly didn’t think I was going to be Fire Lord. But I-- My pup was sired in-- I--” 

Zuko cuts off to pull in a shaky breath, shocked that even now, months later, he finds his breath stolen by that night. Toph’s shoulder is steady when she presses against his, a silent offer of support. He leans into her touch, finds some dignity buried deep inside him. “Pupping at sixteen wasn’t my plan, and pupping and rearing a pup scare me in general. But I don’t need an Alpha to raise my pup. I don’t need an Alpha to love me for me to love them. I’m going to do everything in my power to give my pup the world, and I don’t need an Alpha to do that.” 

Toph doesn’t have a quip to follow that. But she does squirm her way under his arm, resting her cheek on his chest and, hesitantly, her hand on his crest. He’s happy to rest in the silence with her, rubbing gentle circles across her back. They never do get lunch, but Zuko can’t say he really minds.

{}

_My dear nephew,_

_I realize I owe you a thousand apologies, and that this letter is far too late. It was never my intention to hurt you, or suggest that I saw you as lesser for being an Omega. Yet, I also never intended to kill my only son, or the sons of millions of families, in the siege of Ba Sing Se; there is as good an indication of the use of intention as I will ever get._

_In my review of the nearly four years I guided you during your banishment, I find a multitude of errors. In my efforts not to reduce you to your designation, I ignored it entirely. I thought if I made you strong enough, independent enough, brave enough, I might spare you the pains of being an Omega in a world that is cruel to Os at every turn. I was wrong, of course. But you knew that. Likely, you knew that long before I had the barest inkling of it. And for that, as for a million other things, I am sorry. I failed you, in that way and many others I am sure._

_I can only hope I have not ruined any chance of speaking to you again, or providing guidance to you on your journey as Fire Lord and Amma. If I could, if I would be welcome, I would love to come to the royal city after the pup is born, or before if I could. Whenever. I will drop everything to be there. Hopefully, that has always been true in your mind._

_All my love,_

_Iroh, Grand Lotus, Dragon of the West_

Zuko does not cry, but he is still for a long time. When he feels ready to begin again, the sun has long set. He lights the lamp on his desk, wets his favourite inkstick, and ignores that the deep, inky blue reminds him of Sokka’s eyes in the sunlight. He ignores the tremble of his hands, the blur in his eyes as he writes. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if you skipped the section regarding canon character death, here's what you missed:  
> \- Zuko finds information confirming that Kya was unalived immediately after the raid and given a burial at sea.  
> \- Sokka wants to know what happened with Ursa. Zuko tells him what happened & his theory, essentially confirming that Ozai unalived Kya to keep her silent about their scheme. 
> 
> (also orangedew, in my mind, is a cross between an orange and a honeydew.) 
> 
> thanks for reading!!! the next update will be next wednesday!!


	4. three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “There’s still one person in the portrait I’m unfamiliar with,” Bato says. “Any chance you know who he is?”   
> Zuko smiles tightly, forces himself to take in this artistic rendering of himself. Hair pulled back from his face, the Fire Lord headpiece crooked in his bun; dark hair falling across his shoulders, softening the lines of his face; a single clear gold eye; the melted quarter of his face; the cut of his jaw so similar to Ozai’s; the easy - damning - tilt of his body toward Sokka.   
> “Zuko,” he begins, voice hoarse with an emotion too big to name. “Fire Lord Zuko.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> merry christmas from the east coast of the US!!!!! oh, friends, i'm so excited for this chapter. lots of pieces set on the board, lots of excitement prepared for the next chapters. i really hope you enjoy this update!!

“Don’t be mad.” 

Zuko looks up from the missive he was drafting to find Sokka standing anxiously in his doorway, quite literally wringing his hands. 

“I’m feeling more nervous than mad, given your…” he gestures loosely to the Alpha’s body. “Everything.” 

Sokka pastes an expression on his face that could only kindly be called a smile. “Don’t be nervous. Everything is fine.” 

“I’m believing you less and less with each passing moment.” 

“What?! Why! I’m totally credible! Nothing bad is happening!” 

“Yeah, and there’s no war in Ba Sing Se.” 

This, at least, pulls a genuine smile from Sokka. “Well, not anymore there isn’t.” 

Zuko rolls his eyes and waves Sokka into the office. Ozai’s Monster, as he and Sokka called it, is gone now, replaced by a low, circular table with wooden seats designed to support Zuko’s back. Sokka joins him at the table, looking pained as he takes in the scatter of scrolls and notes and flexing his hands like he desperately wants to organize but knows he’ll get burned to a crisp if he does. Instead of risking his life, he settles into a seat close to Zuko, shifting on his bum like he’s exploring the contours of the wood. 

“Comfy,” he notes. 

Zuko eyes him wryly. “Yeah? I know the guy who designed them.” 

“Oh yeah?” 

“Yeah. He’s currently stinking up my office with his anxiety. I sure wish he would just tell me what he was so nervous about. Darn Alphas, always so mysterious. What’s a simple, helpless Omega like myself to do--” 

“Okay, okay, I get it!” But Sokka is laughing, holding his hands up in mock surrender. As a reward, Zuko begins the arduous process of organizing his scrolls, rolling and piling them neatly according to topic. 

Sokka is back to wringing his hands but he at least smells more calm. “Okay, don’t be mad.” 

“Every time you say that, I feel more and more primed for anger.” 

“No, it’s just-- Okay, so-- I--” Sokka stalls out again, looking to Zuko like a pup about to be scolded. Zuko takes a deep breath, shifting minutely on his seat to ease the aching on his back. He’s been sitting for hours, and he would really appreciate it if Sokka would get to the point so they could return to Zuko’s personal chambers, where plush, inviting seating options are available. 

“Sokka, I say this with all the kindness in the world:  _ please  _ get to the point.” 

Sokka clears his throat. “Well-- I may have invited Gran-Gran to Caldera.” 

Zuko blinks. Sokka is looking at him like he’s waiting for a blow to come down, but Zuko honestly can’t find what he’s supposed to be upset about. 

“Okay,” he begins slowly. “That’s great! Should-- do you want to arrange for some sort of feast? Is that what you think I’ll be mad about?” 

Now Sokka looks confused, which Zuko finds vaguely ironic since Sokka was the one to be so concerned about this. “No-- Well! I’ll never say no to a feast. I just… I thought you would be upset because I made a decision about the pup without asking you.” 

“What are you talking about? You invited your grandmother to Caldera.” 

“Right!” 

“No, not right! How did we get from inviting your grandmother to Caldera to making decisions about my pup without me?!” 

“Okay, let’s calm down.” Sokka mimes a deep breath. Zuko nearly punches him in the throat. 

“Don’t patronize me and  _ certainly _ don’t tell me to calm down. Just explain to me what decision you made without my input!” 

“I  _ invited _ Gran-Gran.” 

“Obviously that means nothing to me, Sokka!” 

“She’s a healer, Zuko! She’s helped birth every pup in the Southern Water Tribe since before my father was born!” 

Oh. 

To be honest, Zuko hadn’t put much thought into birthing the pup. Traditionally, the Fire Lady pupped alone, and there had never been an Omega Fire Lord to set a precedence. He’d assumed he would do as all previous Fire Ladies had done: enter his birthing chamber alone and return with a pup or die trying. Underneath his shock, there’s a kernel of relief. He won’t be doing this alone. A Tribe elder with decades of experience will be with him, guiding him through the motions, easing his way. Rapidly overtaking his relief, however, is anger. Sokka’s grandmother is a stranger to him. Sokka, an Alpha who barely three months ago had balked at the idea of even fucking him, has just invited a  _ stranger _ into the most vulnerable moment of Zuko’s life without so much as a scribbled note in warning. 

“I see,” he says quietly. “You’re right; I am angry with you.” 

“No, no, no, Zuko, it’s totally fine! It’s Gran-Gran! She’s great!” 

“She’s a  _ stranger _ .” 

“She raised me!” 

“I’ve never met her!” 

“Yes you have! Last time you were in the South Pole!” 

“The last time I was in the South Pole I was attacking your Tribe and threatening to kill her!! And you thought I would be cool with having her around while I’m pushing a pup out of my body?!” 

Sokka holds up his hands. “Okay,” he begins, voice forcibly calm. “I admit, not the best first introduction. But Gran-Gran isn’t going to hurt you - I swear to you she isn’t. Now, it’s my responsibility to keep you calm while you pup, so let’s just--” 

Sokka is suddenly faceless, nameless, a patronizing Alpha like every other. Every time Azulon growled his Mother into silence and submission. Each time Father spoke down to and over her, like she was a perpetual pup in need of guidance to function. Each Fire Sage who urged him to be soft and quiet, seen and not heard, useless to those around him. Each patron at the Jasmine Dragon who told him to smile more, who reached out and groped, who leered at the slightest suggestion of kindness. Each time Uncle demanded calm of him when fury was more than warranted. And now Sokka, someone Zuko thought he could trust, has betrayed him as well. 

“DON’T TELL ME TO BE CALM! I AM NOT A PUP! YOU DON’T GET TO TELL ME WHEN AND HOW TO FEEL, SOKKA! YOUR JOB IS TO STABILIZE MY HORMONES NOT KEEP ME IN LINE LIKE SOME WAYWARD KOMODO RHINO THAT NEEDS TO BE TAUGHT NOT TO BITE! I AM RIGHT TO BE ANGRY THAT AN ALPHA, WHO ISN’T EVEN MY MATE, HAS DECIDED WHO WILL BE IN MY BIRTHING CHAMBER WHEN I’M PUPPING! I’M RIGHT TO BE FURIOUS ABOUT THAT!” 

Sokka is looking at him like he’s a stranger. Some small, vicious thing in his chest is happy about it, glad that someone has finally seen him for the monster he is. Eventually, Sokka breaks his gaze, stares down at the table. Zuko looks away as well, only to find that he’s seared perfect hand-prints into the wood. He swears softly, lifting his hands to find smoking replicas an inch deep in the grain. 

“I’m sorry,” Sokka says softly. “You’re right. You aren’t an animal in need of training, and you aren’t a pup. I don’t see you that way - I swear I don’t. I just-- I don’t want you to get hurt, either. I want you to feel safe and supported, and Gran-Gran means all of those things to me. I didn’t stop to consider how you might feel about her. I’m sorry for telling you how to feel, too. I was trying to avoid being yelled at, but you’re right to be angry. I’m-- I’m here to help you, not make decisions for you or tell you how to feel.” 

The blaze of fury is snuffed to smoke. Zuko feels off-kilter in its absence, shaky, like he doesn’t know how to function without some anger holding him firm. Isn’t that what the Sun Warriors said? Too large, and the flame will consume you? It occurs to Zuko, distantly, that he’s never known a time when some anger wasn’t beating at the contours of his ribs. 

“Thank you,” he says quietly. “That’s-- Thank you. I accept your apology.” 

Slowly, Sokka reaches out to cradle one of Zuko’s hands in his. Never has Zuko felt small and dainty like Omegas are supposed to be. He has always been tall and strong where he should have been petite and soft. All his life, he’s been bigger than his body where he should barely fill it, leaving space for his Alpha to exist within his skin. But now, with Sokka’s bear paw palm holding his, he feels-- He feels like the right size for his bones. And that scares him more than anything, even as he gentles into Sokka’s touch. 

“Are your hands okay?” 

“Oh, yeah.” Zuko coughs out a laugh. “Yeah, I’m fine. Sorry for-- for losing my cool.” 

Sokka shakes his head. “I would be deeply concerned if you took that without shouting at least a little. I-- Gran-Gran is already on her way,” he admits with a wince. “But I can send a messenger hawk and tell them to turn around.” 

“Them?” 

“Bato, Dad’s life partner, and my step-dad; a few members of the Tribe serving as crew; Gran-Gran. It’s a small group, just enough to sail the boat, deposit Gran-Gran and Bato, and return home.” 

Zuko nods, gripping Sokka’s hand in his. “Don’t turn them away. I-- Traditionally, Fire Ladies - well, any member of the royal family, really - birth alone. They enter their birthing chamber by themselves, and either they return with a pup or… or die trying.” 

It sounds so macabre now that Zuko is saying it out loud, and Sokka takes no pains to hide his shock. “Yue and La, Zuko. That’s-- Sorry, that’s just horrific.” 

Zuko shrugs. “Centuries of Fire Ladies have done it. But I-- I don’t  _ have  _ to do it that way. I’m the first Omega Fire Lord. I can set a new tradition. And having a Tribe elder to help me not die while pupping… that’s not help I’m going to turn away; assuming she wants to help someone who threatened to burn down her village, of course.” 

Sokka’s face softens to a smile. “She’s actually really thrilled to meet you. I-- I told her a lot about you--” 

“Oh, Agni.”

“No, not like that! The good stuff--” 

“As opposed to the mountain of bad.” 

“Hey. Stop that. You don’t get to talk shit about my friend.” There’s a teasing lilt to his voice but his eyes are sharp. That fierce, protective look is back. Zuko has to drop his gaze before he does something monumentally stupid like kiss the Alpha outright. “As I was saying,” Sokka continues, “She’s really excited to meet you and get to know you. Bato transcribes her letters and leaves little notes in the margins about how he’s smiling serenely or rolling her eyes.” 

Zuko laughs, but something in Sokka’s words pulls him up short. “What do you mean, Bato is transcribing. Are her hands okay?” 

“Oh, yeah, her hands are fine. She just can’t read or write.” Sokka sighs heavily. “She was raised in the Northern Water Tribe.” 

When that obviously doesn’t illuminate anything for Zuko, he explains. “They don’t teach Omegas to read or write there. At least, they didn’t when she was a pup. They used water-healing-chi-stuff to tell how a pup would present, and then they separated the Omegas from the rest. The Omegas were trained in pup-rearing, and some were pulled aside to learn healing and midwifery.” He shrugs helplessly. “My parents tried to teach her as an adult, and when we were pups Katara and I tried to convince her to learn with us. But she insisted that she was old and had already learned everything she was going to learn in this life.” 

“Agni,” Zuko breathes. “I thought the Fire Nation was repressive…” 

Sokka breathes out a laugh, but there’s no humour in it. “Yeah, our time in the Northern Water Tribe was… educative, to say the least. We don’t do it that way in the Southern Water Tribe. For starters we don’t have enough water benders to sort pups like that. And even before the war, when there were waterbenders everywhere, each pup was allowed to present in their own time. Everyone could fight in times of war, and everyone contributed to the community in times of peace.” 

Sokka helps Zuko climb to his feet, even though Zuko is still perfectly capable of doing it himself. “At home, Omegas are sacred. An Alpha or Beta partners into an Omega’s family, not the other way around. Os are leaders and important spiritual guides. They’re responsible for healing, which is crucial to keeping a community alive. It never occurred to me that the rest of the world would be different.” 

Zuko huffs out a laugh, leading them toward his chambers, already dreaming about dinner and his nest with half his mind. “Different is certainly a word. It’s-- The Fire Nation places a lot of importance on status and knowing your place. An Omegas place is beneath their Alpha. Our job is to be seen and not heard. We’re to have pups that will grow into Alphas and serve the country. We’re not meant to hold positions of power over anyone but fellow Omegas.” 

“But now you’re Fire Lord.” 

“Now I’m Fire Lord! As you can imagine, many old families are less than excited about it. They can suck my ass, though.”

Sokka laughs broadly, beautifully. “You tell ‘em!” 

Zuko looks away, taking in the halls of the palace with unseeing eyes so he doesn’t look over at Sokka and fall deeper in love than he already is.  _ He isn’t yours _ , Zuko reminds himself.  _ Don’t get attached. He isn’t yours to keep _ . 

{}

_ My dear nephew,  _

_ It is so wonderful to hear about your pup quickening. I remember very clearly how it felt to feel Lu Ten move inside Okuda’s belly. I hope you are reminded everyday that you are carrying a miracle, that there is life within you that could not exist without you.  _

_ I’m glad to hear that you are accepting Kanna’s help. The terror of watching Okuda enter her birthing chamber alone was unparalleled. I wanted so desperately to be by her side, to offer her comfort or strength. Tradition held me back. I reminded myself that she was strong, strong enough to carry the pup for nine months, and certainly strong enough to see the journey to the end.  _

_ In retrospect, of course, I see my mistake. I wish I had been with her in those final moments, to comfort her and ease her into the next life. That, above all, is my greatest regret. I gained a son, one who would become an Alpha, but I lost my mate. I will not lie to you and say we had a particularly intense romantic attachment, but I valued her judgement and temperament. She was a good woman. A good Omega.  _

_ Perhaps it was wrong of me to mention her now. I’m sure that with Kana’s help you will not face the same fate. You will hold your pup in your arms, live to see them grow healthy and strong, I am sure of it. Okuda was hesitant, quick to give up if something would not easily bend to her will. You are not so easily conquered.  _

_ My plan is to arrive in Caldera relatively close to your due date. I do not wish to be in the way, and I fear that if I spend too much time in the royal city there will be talk of a coup or rightful lines of succession. You are happy as Fire Lord, and I am happy here in Ba Sing Se. It is best not to rock the boat in these matters, I think. If nothing else, I will aim to arrive after the pup is born to offer my congratulations and give you time to settle. There will likely be plenty of people crowding about, hoping to see you and the pup. I wouldn’t want to be another stressor.  _

_ Finally, a word from a father: do not bother so much of the Fire Sages say the pup will not be a fire bender. They said the same thing about you, and you went on to train the Avatar. They say they are looking for a spark in the pup’s eye, but really they are looking for a wildfire. They saw that in Azula, and look how she turned out! In any event, do not take their word to heart.  _

_ All my love,  _

_ Iroh, Grand Lotus, Dragon of the West  _

{}

The artist clears his throat quietly. “Fire Lord Zuko?” 

Slowly, Zuko comes back to himself, blinking back his brief disorientation. “Mmm?” 

“A-- A smile would be appreciated, my lord.” 

“Sparky doesn’t smile, don’t you know that? His whole thing is brooding and gloom.” 

A broad grin appears on Zuko’s lips in direct contradiction to Toph’s words. “Oh, look!” he cries with delight. “My favourite menace!” 

She rolls her eyes and flips him off in quick succession, but her smile is just as wide. “Fuck you, I’m a spirits-damned delight.” She offers a small waive to the flabbergasted artist, then steps onto the hokey portrait set his ministers insisted on, pauses with undisguised horror. “This… is this as bad as I think it is?” 

“Yes,” Zuko says, relieved to have someone to complain to about it. “It’s terrible. Awful. I hate it.” 

“Then why did you agree to it?” 

Zuko shakes his head, shifting on the awkwardly placed bench so Toph will have a place to sit. Without missing a beat, she steps onto it and falls to a low squat beside him. “I didn’t even want to do a royal portrait in the first place. The Ministers of Arts and Culture insisted on it.” 

Toph shakes her head in commiseration. “Ugh, I’m so glad I’m not a royal. This shit is  _ not _ all it’s cracked up to be.” 

“I mean, it’s not the worst life to lead. I live in a literal palace.” 

Toph shrugs, shifts to lean to Zuko’s shoulder. “Yeah. But people are always telling you what to do. I always thought that if you’re a royal you do what you want.” 

Zuko makes a sound of agreement, presses a kiss to her hair before she can squawk and protest. “We’re Omegas, Toph. People are always trying to tell us what to do.” 

“How many people do you think tell me what to do, Zuko? Take a guess.” 

Zuko laughs. “That is an incredibly valid point.” 

Toph yawns, her eyes slipping closed. “How long do you have to sit here?” 

Zuko shrugs. “This initial sitting is supposed to be two hours.” 

The artist clears his throat once again. “My lord, if you-- hmm. This would be a wild departure from tradition, but… you and--uhm--” 

“Toph Beifong, greatest earthbender in the world,” Toph says with a sharp grin. “At your service.” 

“If you and Ms. Beifong,” the artist recovers, “would be interested, I could-- Well, I could paint you as you are. This could be your royal portrait.” 

Oh. Zuko turns to look at Toph who is looking back at him, wide eyes unseeing as she listens to him breathe. “Well-- I-- Sokka would be crushed, though.” 

Toph grimaces, nods her head. “Yeah, he’d-- it’d be wrong to leave him out.” 

“What am I being left out of?” 

“SOKKA!” 

Toph flails for a moment before finding her footing and launching herself at the Alpha. Sokka accepts the hug with obvious confusion, looking to Zuko like he might have an answer. Zuko can only shrug. 

“Come be in the tradition-breaking royal portrait with me! We’ll be a little family!” 

Oh. 

Zuko and Sokka make eye contact again. Sokka squeezes the small girl in his arms a little tighter. “Of course,” he says, voice far hoarser than usual. “I would love to be a little family.” 

He steps further into the room, tucking Toph into a loose chokehold. She squawks but allows herself to be drawn back into the room, her escape made easy when Sokka freezes at the sight of the portrait set behind Zuko. 

“I know,” Zuko prefaces. “I know.” 

“Zuko,” Sokka begins, already fighting a laugh. “This is fucking atrocious!” 

“I know!” Zuko muffles a scream in his hands. “I know! It’s terrible! I hate it!” 

The artist hurries Sokka and Toph forward, urging them into position with Toph beside him and Sokka behind them both, a hand on each shoulder. “Don’t worry,” he assures them. “Don’t worry about the set. I’ll-- I won’t paint that. It will just be you three.” He steps back, guides them through minute adjustments. “Oh, this is wonderful. Three nations together. Three heroes!” 

Zuko rolls his eyes. He isn’t going to say it aloud, of course, but he’s starting to miss when the artist was silent behind the canvas. Sokka squeezes his shoulder gently. 

“How long will this take, roughly?” Sokka asks, neatly drawing attention away from their hero-status. “I don’t think Zuko has eaten today, and I don’t want him going much longer without a meal.” 

Zuko rolls his eyes. “I’m fine. I’ll survive a little hunger.” 

“You’re a literal king,” Sokka insists. “And you’re pupping. You don’t need to  _ survive  _ hunger.” 

“Well, I’ll have to  _ survive _ my Ministers of Arts and Culture if they find out I cut short this royal portrait appointment.” 

“Oh, this won’t take long,” the artist assures them. “The two hours is a precaution,” he explains quickly, most of his attention clearly on the canvas in front of him. “You’ll have to return for future sittings, of course. But once I get the basic colours and shapes down I can do a lot of the work separately. Getting facial expressions and features and whatnot.” 

Sokka makes an approving noise and they lapse briefly into silence. Zuko breathes deeply, enjoying the presence of two people he cares for more than anything, their scents mingling in his nose. 

“Zuko,” Sokka begins. “Did we ever tell you how Katara, Aang, and I actually met up with Toph?” 

“Mmm no, I don’t think so.” 

“Ugh! That’s such a good story. Okay, so picture a massive enchanted swamp--” 

{}

Toph leans over, elbows him hard in the ribs. “Hey,” she whispers, “stop being so fuckin’ weird.” 

“How am I being weird?? I’m literally just standing here.” 

“You’re all nervous but you smell ready to cut a bitch. Stop. Relax.” 

“Oh, yeah, that’s super easy to do. Let me just make myself never be nervous again. How about that?” 

“I mean, yeah, that would be ideal.” But Toph is leaning closer, squirming beneath his arm. “Seriously,” she insists, cheek squished into his chest. “Don’t be nervous. They’re gonna love you.” 

Zuko doesn’t have anything to say to that. He just squeezes her tighter and hopes a bit helplessly that if he squeezes tight enough she’ll understand how glad he is that she’s here with him. But then the doors to the entry hall are swinging open and Toph is squirming away. If Zuko’s heart weren’t in his throat he might make a crack about keeping up appearances. As it is, it’s taking everything in him to remain on his feet. 

To Zuko’s surprise, the first person bounding into the hall toward him is not Sokka, or any Water Tribesman. It’s Aang. Even before the airbender reaches him, Zuko can tell he’s hit a growth spurt. Aang doesn’t tackle him with his hug but it's a near thing. He smells-- He’s presented. The milky pup scent is gone entirely, replaced by something cool and buttery as well as floral. Beta. 

“Congratulations on presenting, Aang,” he chokes out, unnecessarily sad that Aang is not an Omega like him. 

Aang quickly, easily waves him away, eyes entirely on Zuko’s crest. He has to fight the initial impulse to wince and demand that Aang engage with him as a person before seeing him solely as a vessel. 

_ He’s excited,  _ Zuko reminds himself.  _ He’s allowed to be happy about this new life after having seen so much suffering. Let him have this moment.  _

Finally, Aang looks up. The tears in his eyes wipe away any misgivings Zuko may have had. Aang coughs out a wet, delighted laugh. “Sorry,” he says, voice deeper than Zuko remembered it. “I’m-- I’m just so thrilled for you.” 

Zuko can only shake his head, glad to not be the one crying for once. Before he can say anything, the pup kicks out. Zuko snatches Aang’s hand and presses it flat against his crest. Dutifully, his pup kicks again. Just as Sokka and Toph did when they first felt the pup quickening, Aang’s face splits with delight. 

“Oh,” he says, whispers really, and somehow it is a prayer and exclamation all at once. 

“Aang! Quick hogging Zuko!!” 

Sokka’s exclamation is quickly followed by a grunt of pain. Aang shifts to reveal Sokka doubled over beside the serenely smiling Kanna. She takes the last steps up into the palace with ease, moving gracefully despite her age. 

Before she can come much closer, Zuko shifts to a kneeling bow, curling as low as he can with a nearly eighth-cycle crest in the way. 

“Kanna, Elder of the Southern Water Tribe,” he begins, speaking out so he can be heard clearly over the thunder of his heart. “Although it is far too little and much too late, I would like to extend my sincerest apologies both for my own behavior and the actions taken by Fire Lord's past. The last time we were face to face, I, shamefully and dishonourably, threatened not only to destroy what was left of your tribe, but your own life. Before that, my father and grandfather waged war on your tribe, regularly raiding for water benders and crippling your people. Though my apology cannot undo the damage wrought, nor bring back the countless lives lost and destroyed, please know that I and my nation will live with the heavy shame and dishonor of--” 

A hand, gnarled and weathered, appears in his periphery. He flinches from it, but it does not accelerate, or alight. In fact it pauses, allowing him to settle minutely before coming closer, resting on the unscarred side of his face. Gently, her hand urges him to look up. 

She is smiling, gently, sadly, sweetly. “Child, you have nothing to apologize for.” 

Zuko’s hopes of not crying immediately go up in flames. “But I do. I have so much to atone for--” 

“You don’t.” She insists. “You cannot bear the wrongs of your father or forefathers. And as for your own mistakes, I think you have rather clearly made them right.” Now her smile is teasing, wrinkles deepening in the corners of her eyes, at the sides of her lips. “Now, come. Stand up. I know kneeling cannot be comfortable for you anymore.” 

Sokka, it seems, has recovered from his grandmother’s attack and appears now to help him to his feet, steadying him wordlessly when he wobbles slightly. 

“There,” Kanna sighs. She takes him in, eyeing him with a far more critical look. Just as Zuko thinks he hasn’t been forgiven quite as miraculously as he thinks, she nods sharply and says, “Yes. You’ll have beautiful pups, I’m certain.” 

Sokka chokes on his spit and Zuko isn’t far from the same position. Kanna’s smile has gone wicked, sharp with delight. She does not cackle, but her laugh is broad and teasing. She sighs to herself, looks around. 

“Sokka has told me you’ve been renovating the palace,” she says, stepping deeping into the entrance hall without waiting for Zuko’s permission or lead. Their party follows in her wake as she looks around curiously, flitting between walls to touch drapes and look at portraits. 

“Uh, yes,” Zuko finally responds, a bit lost but entirely charmed by the small Omega. “Most of the redesigns have taken place in the South Wing, with the exception of the throne room, which is being redone as we speak. I’m afraid we haven’t done much with this hall other than repaint and switch out some drapes.” 

Kanna doesn’t seem to take note of what he’s said, instead walking deeper into the palace, quickly edging toward the boundary of the West Wing. The guards standing by the large doors look to Zuko in confusion. Zuko can only shrug, waive them away. Dutifully, they push the massive double doors open. Kanna walks through with a polite nod to them both. A bit shocked, they nod back. 

Sokka leans in, bringing with him a wave of fresh snow and berries. “She’s great isn’t she?” 

Zuko nods, looks over and meets Sokka’s face-splitting grin with one of his own. “I love her already.” 

{}

Zuko sees the Omega from down the hall. He cuts an imposing figure, tall and lean but clearly strong, arms corded with muscle. In comparison, Zuko feels all the more ungainly. Still, he comes closer, glides to a stop beside the man. Bato looks over, offers a smile, and returns his gaze to the massive portrait of Ozai on the wall. 

“Fire Lord Ozai,” Zuko narrates quietly. “Second son of Fire Lord Azulon and Fire Lady Ilah, fire bending master, reigning from year 95 to 100. Imperialist maniac, mass incarcerator, colonialist asshat, genocide glorifier, all around shitty person. My father.” 

Bato makes a quiet noise, so similar to those Sokka makes that there is no question who he learned it from. “Second son?” He pauses, glances at Zuko. “Is that… normal?” 

Zuko coughs out a laugh. “Absolutely not. He-- He didn’t technically usurp the throne, but that’s effectively what happened. The first son, Prince Iroh, is still alive. He has a very successful tea shop in the second ring of Ba Sing Se.” 

“You’re shitting me.” 

“I’m not. It’s called The Jasmine Dragon. I worked there for months as a tea server.” 

Bato gives him a look, but it only lasts a moment before they are both laughing. Zuko finds his breath first, sobered slightly by the thought of Uncle. Bato is still giggling, wiping tears from his eyes as he steps further down the hall and comes across Zuko’s portrait. 

The way they are posed, Zuko is still the center. The artist managed to make his scar look dignified instead of monstrous, but it is still the focal point. The jarring skin is distracted from, slightly, by Zuko’s crooked smile, the way he is looking at Toph and leaning into Sokka’s hand. The size of his crest is exaggerated slightly, as is the softness and flush of his cheeks, but these details soften his image and make him into something closer to a symbol of fertility; new life, he supposes, for himself and his nation.

Sokka looks regal, as always, brown skin and deep blue eyes striking against Zuko and Toph’s more similar colouring. The artist even managed to capture the smattering of freckles across the high bridge of his nose, the gorgeous cut of his cheekbones, the breadth of his shoulders. Of everyone in the portrait, he is the only one to look directly at the viewer, eyes intelligent and patient. Zuko finds himself drawn into the portrait’s gaze just as helplessly as he’s drawn to Sokka in real life. He feels a pang of loneliness at the thought of the Alpha, who’s on a week-long trip to the Northern Air Temple to meet with inventors. 

Zuko sniffs, pretends not to miss Sokka as much as he does. He shifts his eyes across the portrait to Toph, who is grinning maniacally, clearly laughing at something Zuko has said. She’s perched on the bench, sitting sideways and leaning into Zuko’s body, one foot flexed near Zuko’s knee, the other flat on the floor. True to his word, the background is a simple, deep brown, keeping all the attention on them. 

Zuko glances to Bato, who is already looking at him. “Aren’t you going to introduce me to them,” he asks, teasing and expectant all at once. Zuko smiles, gestures to the right side of the portrait.

“Toph Beifong,” he begins. “Only daughter of the noble Beifong family in the Earth Kingdom, earth bending master. Inventor of metal bending, all-around menace, one of the funniest, most annoying people I know. Essentially, my adopted little sister. 

“Ambassador Sokka of the Southern Water Tribe. Son of Kya, Bato, and Chief Hakoda, all of the Southern Water Tribe, master swordsman, inventor, sometimes engineer. A strategist, one of the most sincere people I know, gentle giant, sometimes idiot but always genius.” He bites back the smile on his face. “My friend,” he finishes, well aware that he has said the word with too much tenderness by half, described him with too much affection to someone who may not know Zuko but certainly knows Sokka. 

“Only my friend,” Zuko clarifies, not daring to look at Bato. “He’s--- He’s here in Caldera to stabilize me while I pup, but. He’s dating Suki, a Beta from Kyoshi Island and leader of the Kyoshi Warriors.” 

Bato makes a sound that is suspiciously neutral. They stand in silence for a long while, but Zuko doesn’t dare to break it, unsure what he could say that wouldn’t give him away entirely. 

“There’s still one person in the portrait I’m unfamiliar with,” Bato says. “Any chance you know who he is?” 

Zuko smiles tightly, forces himself to take in this artistic rendering of himself. Hair pulled back from his face, the Fire Lord headpiece crooked in his bun; dark hair falling across his shoulders, softening the lines of his face; a single clear gold eye; the melted quarter of his face; the cut of his jaw so similar to Ozai’s; the easy - damning - tilt of his body toward Sokka. 

“Zuko,” he begins, voice hoarse with an emotion too big to name. “Fire Lord Zuko,” he corrects belatedly, remembering suddenly that he is responsible for a nation, both its history and future. “First son of Fire Lord Ozai and Lady Ursa, great grandson of Avatar Roku. Fire bender. Swordsman.” He pauses, unsure what else to say. “Patron of the arts and sciences, but please don’t ask him about anything science related, he’ll be so lost. Uhm. Grumpy old man, according to Toph. Turtleduck enthusiast?” His pup kicks out hard to remind him of their presence, landing a blow on his ribs. “Soon-to-be Amma,” he amends, soothing the crest with a gentle hand. 

“I get the sense you’re underestimating yourself,” Bato says quietly. “Sokka seems to think you’re quite extraordinary.” 

Zuko struggles for breath momentarily, tries to pass his wheeze off as a laugh. “Sokka--” he shakes his head. “Sokka is one of the kindest men I know. He could find something complimentary to say about anyone.” 

“I don’t think that’s true,” Bato parries easily. “He had nothing but negative things to say about… who was it? Advisor Yu?” 

“Advisor Yu? Minister of Palace Finances?” 

Bato shrugs. “Apparently the man said something cruel about you and Sokka took it upon himself to defend your honor.” 

Zuko rolls his eyes. “Agni, yes, I remember. I had to drag Sokka away before Advisor Yu started crying harder than he already was. He’s just… protective. He would have been the same way if Yu had said something about Toph; probably worse.” 

Another noncommittal sound. “You said you’re the first born. Where are your younger siblings?” 

“Toph is… around here somewhere. It’s afternoon so she’s probably napping in the palace gardens. That or she’s out on the town terrorizing someone or something. But my  _ biological  _ sister is… She’s at a care facility in Ragmoon, which is about two days’ journey due West from here. She’s unwell, mentally. I wanted to house her here in the palace, but there were concerns for my safety and the safety of my pup. Besides, she’s receiving better care there than she would here.” 

This time Bato’s hum is far more sympathetic. “That must be hard.” 

Zuko shrugs. “It’s not-- Well, yes. Thank you. It is difficult. She was… warped, I suppose is the best word. My father’s abuse took its toll, and combined with her natural mental state… she’s where she needs to be. She’s alive, and as well as she could be considering the circumstances. For that, I’m grateful.” 

In the silence, Bato catches Zuko’s eye, taking him in with an assessing gaze. Zuko isn’t sure where to look, how to take this assessment. He looks away. His eye catches on Ozai’s portrait. 

_ Don’t go there _ , he coaches himself.  _ Don’t think about the brilliant parent figures in Sokka’s life. Don’t compare them to the struggling, straining parents in your life. Don’t think about Ozai and his cruelty. Don’t think about Ursa, and her negligence. Don’t think about Iroh and his demands of perfection. Just be glad you’re here. Be glad you’re alive.  _ He looks to the ground instead. 

When he finally looks up, Bato is looking away, eyes firmly on the portrait hanging in front of them. 

“Were there other portraits you’d like to see?” Zuko asks, belatedly remembering to be a good host. “Or perhaps you’d like to visit the turtleduck pond?” 

Bato offers a warm smile. “The turtleduck pond sounds lovely.” 

{}

“The first nomadic group was a bust. None of them showed any aptitude for air bending, and there weren’t enough elders to question about traditions and rituals,” Aang continues, waving a punctuating hand in dismissal. “But the  _ second  _ nomadic tribe was actually in the Earth Kingdom near the Northern Air Temple! They’re koala sheep herders who travel between the lands just south of the Northern Temple and the northern coast of the Earth Kingdom. Some of the pups showed airbending aptitude, and their traditions, foods, and everything lined up pretty nicely with air traditions. Again, there was the problem of elders, but there were portraits and one seemed to have their tattoos!” 

“That’s great, Aang.” Zuko pulls the Beta into a hug, genuinely thrilled for him. He thanks what abysmal luck he has that his grandfather wasn’t completely successful, that the Fire Nation’s efforts to crushe the Air Nomads wasn’t nearly as successful as they hoped. “Really,” he insists, squeezing the boy tighter. “I’m so glad you’ve found your people.” 

He releases the boy, sips his iced tea. “Are you going to train those who showed aptitude?” 

“Yep! There are still other nomadic tribes to check out, but they’ll just come with me. They’re already nomads, so hopefully that won’t be too much of a shock for them.” 

“Aang, I’m-- I'm truly so thrilled for you. I don’t have the words to express it.” 

Aang let’s their conversation subside, giving them both an opportunity to look around the room. Suki, Mai, and Ty Lee journeyed from the Kyoshi Islands to be here for a week, coinciding neatly with Katara and Aang’s arrival to Caldera. It’s been a week of impromptu parties and feasts; a week of keeping to the sidelines, watching Sokka interact seamlessly with the three Warriors; a week of dodging the Alpha at every turn to give him as much space and time with Suki as is humanly possible. 

Even now, he watches Sokka throw his head back and laugh at something Suki says, her hand on his upper arm. Suki is small and fierce beside him, slim where Sokka is broad, fair where he is dark. They complement one another perfectly. Zuko looks away. He shouldn’t be happy that this is the last hurrah before the Kyoshi Warriors and Aang depart early tomorrow morning. He shouldn’t be, but he is. 

He forces his attention back to Aang before his scent can announce his mingled pleasure and grief. Aang is already looking at him, eyes far too alert for this late in the night. 

“So,” Aang says, voice already suspiciously neutral. “How have you been? Any news to share?” 

Zuko flounders for a moment. “Uhm, Katara was able to discern the sex of the baby? Sokka knows, and so does Toph, but I want it to be a surprise.” 

Aang nods in a painfully exaggerated fashion. “I also know. Sokka told me the second we were alone.” 

“I’m surprised he’s been able to keep the secret from me,” he admits with a relieved laugh. “Nobody has ever accused him of being a particularly good secret-keeper.” 

This, of all things, seems to bolster Aang. “No, I know! So, how has it been?” 

“What do you mean, how has it been? How has what been?” 

“Y’know!” Aang jostles him gently with an elbow, winking conspiratorially. “How has it been on  _ that  _ front?” 

“I genuinely have no idea what you’re talking about. What front?” 

Aang blanches, looks around the room as though somebody is going to come swooping in to berate him. “Uhhh, nothing! No fronts! Haha!” 

“Spirits, you’re worse than Sokka when you’re lying.” Zuko rolls his eyes, goes to take another sip of his tea only to find the glass empty. He thinks briefly of waving down one of the staff and asking them to get more. “Just tell me what you’re talking about,” Zuko continues, drawing his own attention back to matters at hand. 

Aang shakes his head violently, backing away from Zuko. “Nope! I’m not talking about anything! Actually, so funny you mentioned… things. Uhm. I just remembered, I have things to do!” When Zuko gives him an incredulous look, he bares his teeth in something approaching a smile. “I have to go pack!” 

“You’re a  _ nomad _ . What could you possibly have to pack?” 

“Oh, you know! Things! Anyway, I gotta go! See you tomorrow morning!” With that he’s speeding away, moving so fast that Zuko genuinely cannot tell if the pup used airbending or not. 

Zuko shakes his head with a sigh. He places his empty glass on the sideboard he’s standing near, then immediately picks it up again, feeling guilty. They’ve grouped tonight in Zuko’s meeting room, one of the only spaces large enough to allow their party to comfortably mingle. Zuko had let Sokka go hog-monkey-wild on cleaning and organizing, something Zuko himself had never been particularly good at or keen on. The result is a sparkling space, with everything having its place, and Zuko doesn’t want to ruin Sokka’s hard work. 

He lets his eyes scan the room once more. Katara and Kanna are in the corner opposite Zuko, chatting and laughing. Toward the middle, Toph and Sokka are keeping conversation with Mai, the three of them apparently getting along swimmingly. Ty Lee has Bato’s ear, and Bato seems somewhere between absolutely bewildered and completely endeared, which is a fairly standard, if positive, reaction to the whirlwind that is Ty Lee. Suki is getting food from the buffet spread, filling her plate with foods that, even across the room, Zuko recognizes as some of Sokka’s favourites. Aang appears seemingly from nowhere to chat with her, a broad grin on his face.  _ So much for packing _ , he thinks wryly. 

Distracted by scanning the room, Zuko doesn’t hear Chief Hakoda approach until the Alpha is already upon him. Zuko makes a soft noise of surprise, eyes darting unconsciously to where Sokka is standing. He accidentally catches the man’s eye, and watches Sokka’s face slide to concern. Zuko looks away. He sketches a bow to Chief Hakoda with his glass still in his hands, feeling more than a little ridiculous. 

“Chief Hakoda.” 

“Fire Lord Zuko.” 

Hakoda doesn’t seem to have anything in particular to say, content for them to have acknowledged each others’ presence and return to watching the room. Zuko finds himself relaxing minutely. Now that he’s close enough to the man to scent him, he can appreciate how similar Hakoda and Sokka smell. They share a base scent of pine, as well as the cool sting of freshly fallen snow. The berries must have been Kya’s influence, then. 

Zuko shifts on his throbbing feet, regretting staying so long into the night. He has a meeting in the morning, not to mention rising early enough to meditate and do some light exercises before seeing Aang and the Kyoshi Warriors off. He should have been to bed hours ago, yet he stands here with aching feet and an aching heart because he is apparently a masochist on numerous scales. 

“It’s getting late,” Hakoda notes idly. 

“It is,” Zuko agrees. “But it’s a beautiful night.” 

Hakoda makes an agreeing noise. “This room has a lovely view of the royal gardens. They’re beautiful tonight! I didn’t know it snowed in the Fire Nation.” 

Zuko’s voice is decidedly more happy when he speaks. “Yep! There are parts of the main island that don’t get snow, but we’re actually far enough South that we get a real winter. Of course it’s nothing compared to the North or South Poles, but. Uhm. It’s one of my favourite things about the city. I love the snow.” 

“Mmm! Really!” 

“Yeah! I was born in the winter,” he notes, leaving out his winter presentation in light of propriety. “My mother hated the snow, but she would bundle Azula and I up and watch us play from the safety and warmth of this very room.” 

Hakoda makes an appreciative noise, seems to look around the room with a sharper eye. “This was her room?” 

Zuko nods, smiling tightly. “Yes. Father held all his meetings in the throne room, as most Fire Lord’s did. Fire Ladies have their own obligations and matters to attend to, so most have separate offices here in the South Wing. This was my mother’s.” 

Hakoda nods, eyes far too understanding and warm. “That must be a great comfort to you.” 

Zuko nods, breathing deeply and absurdly grateful that he is past the point of crying at everything. “It is. It was-- It was difficult at first. Her scent was still very strong in the room when I first began taking meetings in here. But…” he nods, looks at the space rather than the people in it. “But I’m happy to put it to use.” 

“How long has she been gone?” Hakoda asks, voice soft and sympathetic. 

Zuko sighs heavily, shakily and stops himself at the last moment from looking toward Sokka. “It will be five years, soon; in a little over two weeks.” 

Hakoda nods, freeing Zuko from his gaze to look around the room. “About the same time I lost Kya, then.” He huffs out a sad laugh, scent going soft with grief. “It surprises me, sometimes, how similar your story and Sokka’s story are. Both of you, with prodigy younger sisters; both losing your mothers; both effectively without a father for much of your adolescence. And now you’re here. Together.” 

Zuko winces, looks to Sokka where he stands in the center of the room, once again talking to Suki. “Not together,” he corrects softly. When Hakoda gives him a look, he gestures loosely with his glass. “Not together in  _ that  _ way. He’s with Suki.” 

Hakoda’s look doesn’t falter. “I…” He pauses, swirls his drink in his glass. “This is really a conversation you need to have with Sokka,” he says slowly, “but I think you’re wildly mistaken.” 

Hope, viscous and defiant, blooms in his chest. Zuko crushes it with a smile. “No, I’m certain he is. And even if he weren’t,” he says with a small laugh. “I’m not exactly a prime candidate.” He goes to sip his drink, remembers it’s empty. Finally, he gives into the urge to just leave it on the sideboard, telling himself he’ll clean it up tomorrow before his meeting, assuming the staff don’t get to it first. 

“Goodnight, Chief Hakoda,” he says simply, cutting through whatever the Alpha was saying. He sketches a bow and slips through the propped open doors before the Chief can get another word in edgewise. The walk back to his chambers, as it has been this whole week, seems especially dark and lonely without Sokka at his side. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (pls hype me up in the comments i thrive on your messages!!!)


	5. four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Perversely, it is the knowledge that Sokka will soon be gone, off to be brilliant elsewhere, that encourages Zuko to say, “I-- I never want space from you.” He clears his throat, well aware of the flush burning across his face. He looks up, eyes skittering across Sokka’s lips, not quite managing to meet his gaze. “Just, if it helps you not get, uh, get confused,” he reiterates haltingly. “You’re probably the only person I could tolerate being around all the time, so.” 
> 
> Sokka simply squeezes his hand, does not try to meet his eye. But his voice is warm and intimate when he says, “Understood,” and Zuko thinks they might finally have it as close to right as they ever will.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ahh!! i'm so excited to release this chapter!! she's a longer one but i hope you all enjoy!! the next chapter will be the last for A Safe Place To Land (r.i.p.) but have no fear! there will be related works that i will compile into a series for your reading ease. thank you so much for being incredible the last few weeks, and i hope you enjoy!!!

Zuko sees him coming in the mirror, the steely scent of his determination ballooning the fill the hall, then the room, long before he can actually reach the doorway. Yet, whatever he was about to say seems to dissolve on his lips when he gets to the door. His face softens, slackens to an expression Zuko can’t place. He looks back to his reflection and the robes undergoing their final fittings. 

Zuko was hesitant when Yoshioka recommended cream robes, concerned about looking pallid and sickly. But the royal seamstress had brushed away his concern, promising that he would look radiant. Now, standing in the garment, he isn’t certain that he could be described as glowing but he can agree that he doesn’t look mortally ill. 

The material is a luxurious, heavy, surprisingly warm silk that falls in flattering pleats and shadows from his chest, over his bump, and nearly down to the floor. The top is folded into a dramatic V, deep enough that it shows the scar Azula left and, with minimal shifting, could also reveal his nipples. (“For nursing,” Yoshioka said with a knowing nod and commiserative pat on her own soft belly. Zuko had flushed and decided not to say anything at all.) 

When he first slipped on the garment he’d thought it supremely flattering, softening some lines and enhancing others to remove the tick-like silhouette of most of his robes. But now, faced with Sokka’s unreadable expression, Zuko finds himself unsure, self-conscious in a way he hasn’t been in months, and has frankly never been in Sokka’s presence. 

Yoshioka rises from her crouch with a sigh, effortlessly breaking the tension in the room. “I’ve just realized I left the gold trim in the fabric supply room,” she says with a self-deprecating smile. “Excuse me while I go get it.” She bows deeply and steps away on silent feet, slipping between Sokka’s large form and the doorway, leaving the two alone. 

Sokka seems to come back to himself, drawing his eyes away from Zuko’s body to meet his eye in the mirror. He clears his throat and sounds painfully stiff as he says, “May I come in?” 

Panic flares in Zuko’s chest, bright and stinging. He turns carefully on the hemming pedestal to face Sokka, desperately trying to get a read on him. Between the added height of the platform and the distance Sokka keeps from him, they are eye to eye. 

Sokka is the first to break, looking to the floor, then his hands. The panic in Zuko’s chest burns brighter, settles deeper; deep enough that his pup feels it and stretches and shifts in protest. Zuko sends a hand to soothe them, breathes slowly and evenly as Kanna has prescribed for these bouts of panic. 

“How--” Sokka stops, clears his throat. “How have you been?” 

The question throws Zuko for a loop. He shifts on his feet. “I’ve been well? How have you been?” 

“Fine! Fine. I’ve been-- uhm. Zuko, have I-- have I done something? Like to offend you, or…?” 

“What? No. No! Why would-- what would make you think that?” His waning panic transforms to growing horror. “Oh, Spirits, have I-- have I done something to offend  _ you _ ? Is that what you’re getting at? Because I am so, so sorry, Sokka, I--” 

But Sokka seems baffled by this turn, throwing up his hands in a gesture that could literally mean anything. “What? Zuko, no. You’re-- you’re fine.” 

Zuko holds back his flinch by the skin of the teeth.  _ Fine _ , he thinks, crushing the bitter smile that wants to bloom.  _ I’m best described as fine. Adequate. Alright. I’ll do.  _

“I was just-- I feel like I haven’t seen you at all in the last week,” Sokka continues. “And it-- I’ll be honest, it started to feel personal by the end.” He winces, rubs his neck with one hand. Zuko dutifully ignores the tempting bunch and flex of his bicep, stopping his wayward mind before it can consider whether the muscle would flex the same way if Sokka fucked into the warm clutch of Zuko’s body. 

“So I just wanted to make sure I haven’t, y’ know,” Sokka is saying, gesturing broadly at nothing in particular. “Crossed a line,” he finishes awkwardly. 

When Zuko is too confused to respond, Sokka carries on speaking, voice going high with nerves. “Unless I have crossed a line! Which-- you can always tell me if I’ve done something to-- to scare you or creep you out. Always. I never want you to--” 

Zuko holds up a quelling hand, stopping the panicked Alpha in his tracks. “Woah. Just-- no. I was-- You’re-- You didn’t cross any lines, Sokka,” Zuko finally gets out. “I  _ was  _ avoiding you, in a sense, but it was to give you two some space. I know I’m a huge burden on your time. So I saw an opportunity to do something to-- to  _ repay  _ you. It wasn’t much, and of course I’m still massively in your debt for all you’ve done, but--” 

“Zuko--” Sokka laughs but it sounds just shy of hysterical. “Zuko, what are you  _ talking  _ about?” 

Hurt blooms in his gut. “Well, it’s been months since you last saw her, and I’m sure you’ve been exchanging letters but that isn’t the same as seeing someone face to face. So I figured I would make myself scarce so you two could spend as much time together as possible without me interfering.” 

“Zuko, I am  _ so  _ lost.” He huffs out another laugh, tongue perched neatly just inside his top lip. “Who are you  _ talking  _ about? Who is this ‘she’ I was supposed to spend all my time with??” 

Zuko knows that the anger in his chest is irrational. He knows that Sokka doesn’t deserve it, that he’s behaving like a pup who’s been laughed at rather than an adult having a mature, if desperately confusing conversation. But for Sokka to lie to his face this way, playing dumb when he is a literal genius, is a step too far. So Zuko erupts. 

“Suki!!” When he throws his arms wide, sparks burst from his fingers and mouth, landing harmlessly on the cool granite floor. “Your  _ girlfriend!  _ Remember her? Kyoshi Warrior, about yea tall, left the city yesterday morning? The one whose name you shout with delight upon seeing her?”  _ Jealous _ , he notes with detached interest as his mouth carries on shouting.  _ You’re jealous and making a fool of yourself because of it.  _

“Her!” He continues. “Forgive me for doing something  _ nice  _ for once in my life and giving you two some space since you spend the rest of your time tolerating my existence! So yes, I gave you two time to be together, because, contrary to popular belief, I can in fact survive seven fucking days without your presence!!” He wants to say more, but Sokka’s face has already gone blank, blanched, even, scent painfully muddled before disappearing entirely. 

In the pause, Sokka licks his lips. “I see,” he says quietly, and Zuko is suddenly certain that he  _ doesn’t  _ see, that neither of them do and they’ve spent the last minutes talking right past one another. Then Sokka is sketching a  _ bow,  _ something he’s never done, not even in jest. Nausea and grief rise in Zuko’s throat, but he does not allow them to become a whimper of need. 

“I’ll let you return to your appointment, Fire Lord Zuko,” Sokka intones, all stiff formality once again. He turns and strides down the sunlit hall before Zuko can drop to his knees and beg him to stay. 

Yoshioka very generously says nothing when she returns and sees Zuko’s tear-stained face. She holds her silence as Zuko, succumbing to this moment of weakness, asks to see all her blue trimmings and picks the shade closest to Sokka’s eyes. 

{}

Toph corners him in his office, though ambush is probably a more apt term, stomping up to his work table and speaking before he has time to offer even the barest pleasantry. 

“What’s going on between you and Sokka?” 

Zuko winces, sets aside the legislative scroll he was reviewing. “Nothing is going on between us.” 

“Liar.” 

“I’m not.” 

“Then why are you guys acting so weird?!” 

For a moment, her genuine distress and confusion are written plainly across her face. To be honest, Zuko hadn’t even considered how the rift - canyon - between him and Sokka would affect Toph. Of course the young Omega is trapped between them, hurt by their apparent inability to exist in the same room together without soul-crushing silences and awkwardness. Without wanting to, Zuko thinks of dinner last night, the way Toph had been sitting properly in her chair for once, both feet on the floor as she struggled to make sense of the tension between them. Unspoken, a single, strong thread running beneath the friendship between them, Zuko and Sokka had functioned as almost-parents to Toph in the months they’ve lived in the palace. And now Zuko has ruined the one steady support system Toph had. 

As though sensing Zuko’s racing throughs and comprehension of her true feelings, Toph closes off entirely, crossing her arms and grinding her feet into the floor. 

“Stop being weird,” she snaps, though it sounds more like a plea than Zuko thinks she intended. 

“Toph,” Zuko begins weakly, but the small girl beats him to the punch. 

“NO!” With a broad sweep of her hands, she dumps countless scrolls into the floor and steps onto the work table to crouch directly in front of Zuko. 

“What happened?” she demands. “What aren’t you telling me?” 

Zuko sighs heavily, quickly formulating an abridged version of his blunder. “Sokka came to me, thinking he’d done something wrong because I’d kept to myself when Suki, Mai, and Ty Lee were here. I explained that I was giving him and Suki space. He… lied to me, acts like he’d never even heard Suki’s name before. I… snapped. It wasn’t pretty. I essentially accused him of not caring about Suki; told him I could handle a week without his presence. I acted like I didn’t want or need him around. And now… now it’s weird between us.” 

Toph seems to have deflated, some of her anger escaping her. “Oh, Sparky,” she sighs, sounding far older than her 13 years. “You really put your foot in it, huh?” 

Zuko attempts a laugh, fails. “Yup.” 

“So what now?” she asks, reaching out in a wordless plea to hold his hand. 

Zuko shrugs though he knows she cannot see it. “I don’t know,” he admits, taking her hand in his own and squeezing gently. “But I’m sure we’ll figure it out eventually.” 

Zuko doesn’t honestly believe that, and isn't sure how he’ll ever fix what he’s so clearly broken between him and the Alpha. But he puts all the certitude he doesn’t feel into his voice, and Toph cannot feel his heartbeat through the ground to sense his lie. 

She deflates entirely, relaxing into his touch and using his hand to cover herself in his scent like a far younger pup might. His heart aches, more than a little, at how young she really is, how much pain she has already faced. 

Once again, she is moving before he can so much as collect his thoughts, shuffling to sit on the edge of the table and stand. 

“C’mon,” she demands, pulling him to his feet gently in direct contradiction to the command in her voice. “You’re done working for the night. We’re sneaking up to the roof to look at the city.” 

Zuko should probably point out that he is nearly nine cycles into pupping and really shouldn’t be climbing onto any roofs. Ideally, he would mention that he needs to be up to date on this legislation before his people vote on it. He might also point out that Toph is completely blind, and won’t be seeing any city from hundreds of feet in the air. 

But he doesn’t do any of that. Instead, he goes along willingly, making her promise they’ll stop at the kitchens to grab dinner before they start scaling the palace. Zuko may have destroyed one of the few things Toph could depend on. But he can give her this. He can always give her this. 

{}

“Zuko?” 

Zuko blinks slowly back to himself, looks through Kanna with a smile. “Yes?” 

She returns his smile, but it quickly melts to concern. “You seem to be… elsewhere.” 

“Lots on my mind,” he offers weakly. “Being Fire Lord and all.” 

“And of course it has nothing to do with the fact that Sokka isn’t here.” 

Zuko chokes on his tea. 

Rather than her usual sharp grin, Kanna frowns more deeply, rubbing his back gently as he wheezes and coughs. Her eyebrows are stitched together, honey and berries scent bright with concern. She shakes her head, tuts. “Oh, young love. Why must it always be so perilous?” 

Zuko shakes his head broadly, even as he struggles to get a full breath in. “Not love--” he chokes. “Not--” 

Kanna merely pats his back and offers a sip of cool water from her pitcher. He takes the glass gratefully, rushing through a bow to swallow it down. Thankfully, he does not choke again and the irritation in his throat eases enough to allow a comfortable breath. He sips again, then a third time, stalling to compose himself before he lies to Kanna straight through his teeth. 

“I know it is truly none of my business,” she says preemptively. “But I think it best, in this case, to rip off the bandage: I know that you harbour feelings for my grandson.” 

Zuko winces, buries his face in the sleeves of his robes. “I’m sorry,” he croaks. “Really, I am-- He’s-- I won’t, y’know,” he gestures loosely, one hand still covering his eyes like that will stop this nightmare now that it’s begun. “He’s a  _ friend _ . A very good friend, but. I’m-- aware that he doesn’t want anything more with me. I’ve just-- I spoke from anger; jealousy, really. And I must have really hurt him, because now he can barely stand to be in the same room as me for three minutes.” 

Kanna tuts, removes her hand from his back. “Zuko, look at me.” Her tone brokers no argument. She meets his eye then sigh heavily. “Start the story from the beginning,” she advises. “What were you two arguing about? What did you say that you think was so heinous?” 

“Well, it-- it wasn’t an argument. Actually, he was trying to do the right thing, which makes what I said worse.” Zuko braces himself with a short sigh, then speaks. “When the Kyoshi Warriors were here, I mostly kept to myself to give Sokka and Suki time to themselves. I know I’m a huge burden on Sokka’s time and-- and I’m certain Sokka missed her. I saw an opportunity to give them some  _ time  _ together, and I took it. 

“But then Sokka approached me earlier this week, asking if he’d done something wrong. And, of course I told him, ‘no, you’re done everything right. I was just giving you time with your girlfriend without me being an awkward addition.’ But then-- then he tried to spare my feelings, I guess? He was acting like he didn’t even know who Suki  _ was  _ and that--” 

Zuko shakes his head. “That’s where the trolley went off the rails. I was so mad that he lied, and so jealous that Suki is perfect for him in ways I can never be that I--” Zuko cuts off once again, looking at his torn-apart cuticles like they will have an answer for him. “I exploded. I accused him of not caring about Suki, and acted like I could handle myself without him, and now--” 

Zuko spreads his hands in defeat. Kana makes a sympathetic noise and rubs his back firmly. “Now you two are like strangers,” she finishes. 

Zuko gives into the tears that have been threatening all week. “Now it’s like he can’t stand to be in a room with me. He’s  _ formal _ , all bows and titles, and he’s never been like that with me. Never. I don’t think he’s so much as smiled near me in four days. And I know I sound ridiculous,” he prefaces. “I’ve known for months that he wasn’t going to stay after the pup was born, that eventually-- eventually he would leave and our friendship wouldn’t be as close. I just got comfortable; got used to him being around, y’know?” 

Kanna catches his eye, managing to look fierce and deeply conflicted all at once. “You know, Fire Lord Zuko, I am a very old woman.” 

Zuko flounders briefly, unsure where this conversation is going. “Okay?” 

“And I’ve kept many secrets for many people, taking those secrets to their graves. I’m not about to break that habit now.” She pauses, seems to stare directly into his soul. Then, “I think it would be wise of you to tell Sokka how you feel.” 

“No.” His response is so sudden, so definitive, it seems to startle both of them. “With all the respect due to your wisdom and experience, of course! I just-- I can’t.” 

But Kanna is gentle, painfully so as she asks. “Whyever not, child?” 

“It would ruin everything.  _ Everything _ . He’d-- He’d never see me the same way,” Zuko explains haltingly. “Worse, he would leave. I would be alone, and this time there wouldn’t even be the chance that we’d still be friends.” 

Kanna’s lips disappear into a line, white eyebrows stitched together before relaxing in defeat. “I cannot force you,” she says after a long pause. “But I hope you will at least consider what I’ve suggested. Now!” She seems to brighten, characteristic wiley grin on her face. “Tell me about your dreams recently. Anything stand out?” 

Zuko groans loudly and doesn’t bother to hide his rolling eyes, which only encourages a cackle from the older woman as she pours him a new cup of ginger tea. 

“This is ridiculous,” he grumbles, but both of them know he’s going to tell her. “I’ve had mostly nightmares recently,” he admits. 

She hums sympathetically. “Probably from the strain of your argument with Sokka.” 

He makes a noise of agreement, sips his tea. “But, uhm, last night there was a-- a sliver of a dream, really. I could barely remember it when I woke up. But what I did remember was staring down at a pup in my arms. The baby-- she looked like Azula did when she was a pup. And then I was eating a mango and the baby was gone, but I wasn’t afraid. I knew where the baby was, I just couldn’t see her. She was safe.” Of course, the pup in Zuko’s belly chooses this moment to make their presence known and puts a fist directly into Zuko’s kidney. 

“Do you think that’s significant? That the pup resembled your sister?” 

Zuko considers grumbling about Kanna being the dream-reader of the two of them, but holds his tongue. “I’m not sure,” he says after a pause. “Uncle sent a letter that’s made me think of Azula; about how so many things could have been different. I’ve missed her a lot lately - both the pup she was and who she became. And I wonder if my anxieties about raising a pup mixed with those feelings of missing her and manifested in the dream.” 

“Anxieties?” Kanna prompts. 

Another sip of tea, this one draining his cup. “I worry that-- that I’ll somehow be like my father, dissatisfied with everything my pup does. But I only worry about that a little bit. The fear that takes up most of my time is that I’ll make the same mistakes my Mother and Uncle made. 

“They think Azula is a monster. At least, my mother did. And Uncle sees no path to redemption or honor for her. They abandoned her,” he admits. “They gave up on her because they were afraid of her, disgusted by what she could have become long before she became anything at all.” 

Kanna dutifully pours him another cup of tea. He shouldn’t accept, knows the dangers of drinking too much tea with his bladder in such close proximity to his pup’s extremities. But his composure and courage are flagging, and Kanna is offering this drink as a tangible show of support. So he takes it. 

“And you’re afraid you’ll abandon her as well,” she surmises. “Your pup.” 

Zuko nods. “Uncle used to say there was too much of Ozai in Azula, and that’s what ruined her. What if-- What if there’s too much of  _ him _ in my pup? What if that makes them rotten in my eyes?” 

Kanna’s scent goes soft and muted with grief as she sweeps Zuko into a crushing hug, his crest like a heart between them. 

“Let me tell you something, Zuko: loving your pup is not the same as loving a life partner or even a friend. Being a parent is hard. It’s pain, and fear, and worry, and work, and the love you share with a partner or a peer isn’t strong enough to hold the weight of that burden. The  _ best  _ parents, the ones who would give their life for their pup in a heartbeat? They’ve  _ chosen  _ to love their pup. They’ve  _ chosen  _ to give their lives for their pups, chosen it so many times that it has transformed into instinct, that it runs through them like blood in the body.” 

Her eyes are shining with tears and so are Zuko’s. “What if I choose wrong?” he croaks. 

Kanna tuts, places a cool hand against Zuko’s chest over his sunburst scar. “Zuko, you have already chosen right. You chose when you decided to keep this pup, even in the middle of a war. You chose when you took a bolt of lightning to the chest, sparing your pup the blow. You’re choosing now. Bad parents, parents who do not love their pups, don’t worry about loving them enough, child. That is a fact.” 

{}

A knock sounds against the frame of Zuko’s office door. He cannot stop the hope that Sokka will be standing there, a soft smile on his face, even after a week of stiff formality and painful silences between them. It isn’t him, of course. But he cannot hold in the soft sound of surprise that escapes him when he sees none other than Suki standing in civilian clothes. 

Zuko waives her in with a warm smile. Despite all the pain surrounding her relationship with Sokka, Zuko cannot hold a grudge against her. She is the reason Sokka is alive, after all, and she cannot help being better suited for the Alpha than Zuko could ever be. Suki sketches a quick bow and folds herself easily into Zuko’s outstretched arms, hugging him tightly and rocking him back and forth gently. 

When he releases her she rocks back to her heels with a smile. “Uhm, maybe you don’t have the answer to this, but I-- I think I left my jacket here last week? Not in this room, but in the room overlooking the palace gardens?” 

Zuko makes a noise of confirmation, striding over to the sideboard where he’d left it after getting distracted on his way to the hawk tower. He passes it on readily. 

“One of my staff found it, laundered it, and put it with Toph’s clothes,” he notes with a laugh. “You can imagine the confusion. I was on my way to send it to Kyoshi Island when I was pulled away to another task.” 

Suki laughs but she sounds tense, stalling awkwardly with the parcel in hand. “Actually,” she admits, “I didn’t come all the way back just for the jacket.” 

“Oh?” 

“No.” She takes a steadying breath and meets Zuko’s gaze head on. Without her warrior paint, her eyes are so much brighter, seeming to fill up her face and dominate her delicate features. “I have something to ask you. It's something of a personal nature.” 

Dread rises in Zuko’s throat.  _ She’s asking to have Sokka back. She knows how terrible I’ve made things between us, how I’ve destroyed our friendship with my stupid temper, and now she’s asking if I can make it through pupping without him. I’ve lost him. I knew I was going to lose him, knew all along that he wasn’t mine to keep, but I’m not ready. Not yet. Please, not yet.  _

“Oh,” he pushes out, sounding strangled even to his own ears. “What’s that?” 

“I’m asking permission to mate with Mai and Ty Lee.” 

Shock wipes Zuko’s face clean. He notes, distantly, that he cannot feel his hands, nor most of his face. Perhaps misunderstanding his expression, Suki continues speaking. 

“I know it’s only been a few months. And to be honest, I probably won’t ask them the second I get back,” she admits with a smile. A flush is rising to her cheeks, girlish and soft in contradiction to the strength and certitude in her voice. “But I’m sure they’re who I want to spend the rest of my life with. They’re Fire Nation nationals, and by law cannot mate those who are not Fire Nation citizens themselves. They would need an exception directly from the Fire Lord, you, to do so.” She pulls a folded slip of paper from her pocket. “Would you grant them that exception, so I can spend the rest of my life with the women I love?” 

“Yes!” he cries after he pushes aside his shock and the horror growing in the base of his spine. “Oh my goodness, yes!” He pulls her into another hug, squeezing with all his strength. When he pulls away, he leads her by the wrist to his table, urging her to sit. He goes through and methodically signs and stamps where he needs to, clearing both Mai and Ty Lee for extra-national mateship. 

“I’m so happy for you,” he repeats, forcing all his happiness to the surface so he doesn’t have to think about-- so he doesn’t have to think. 

Suki hums indulgent, then looks around. “Where’s Sokka? I thought you two were connected at the hip these days.” 

Zuko grips his calligraphy pen more tightly than necessary, guiding himself through each brush-stroke of his name so he does not break open. “We’ve had-- we had an argument,” he says, though ‘argument’ doesn’t really capture the clusterfuck he made of their friendship. “A misunderstanding,” he amends. “We-- He’s somewhere in the palace. I’m sure I could find him for you, or at least point you in the right direction.” 

Suki is all genuine concern and sympathy as she rests her hand on top of Zuko’s squeezing gently. “Do you want to talk about what happened?” 

He shakes his head and smiles tightly. He meets her eye bracingly. “I’m alright,” he says, which doesn’t really answer her question. But she seems to understand anyway because she nods and looks away, allowing Zuko to finish signing and sealing the documents in peace, one hand resting on his shoulder in silent support. Before he’s really conscious of time passing, he’s sending her away with a smile, pointing her toward the throne room, where Sokka mentioned overseeing reconstruction efforts at dinner last night. 

Then he is left alone, with nothing to distract him from the truth: Sokka must have broken things off with Suki while Zuko was still floating in and out of consciousness months ago. And if Sokka was single, then his repulsion at the thought of being with Zuko was not out of a desire to honor his relationship with Suki. His disgust was in direct response to Zuko. 

_ I never had a chance _ , Zuko admits to himself, burying his head in his hands and resting heavily against the wall of his office, crumpling to the floor in a heap of self-loathing.  _ I never had a chance at all. Sokka is an unmated, unattached Alpha, and presented with me, an Omega he could have without consequence, he did not want me. He has never wanted me, because I’m not the type of Omega that good, upstanding, beautiful Alpha’s like Sokka want. I’m used and battered and torn apart. Of course he wouldn’t want me. Of course not.  _

It’s nearly sunset when Zuko feels ready to face the world again. For a long while he simply rests where he crumbled, wedged in the corner between two heavy drapes, hiding like a pup. Eventually, he rises to stand. He swipes at his eyes roughly, goes to adjust his Fire Lord headpiece, then thinks better of it. He takes out the gold piece entirely, letting it fall to his desk. He unties the ribbon holding his hair in it’s tight bun and allows that to flutter to the floor. Released from its updo, his hair falls in a heavy wave around Zuko’s head. He shakes it to a more flattering side-part that covers much of his scar, then heads out. He needs to find Sokka. 

The first place he checks, of course, is the Agni Kai arena. He pretends not to know for both of their sake, but Zuko is well aware that this is where Sokka goes when he does not want to see Zuko since the O won’t step foot inside the space. Indeed, he nearly abandons his task entirely as he stands in front of the doors, waiting for the guards to unlock the heavy slabs of iron and push them open. He stays the course through sheer will alone, knowing he can never face himself again if he doesn’t at least apologize and try to set things to rights. 

In the end his fortitude is for nothing. Sokka isn’t there. The arena is smaller than he remembered it, and it does smell faintly of Sokka, his skin and his sweat, but the scent is old, stale; like he hasn’t been here in a few days after all. 

Feeling strangely bereft, Zuko gestures for the guards to close the doors once more, thanking them absently for opening it in the first place. Whether they respond, Zuko isn’t sure. His mind is already miles away as his feet pull him toward the West Wing. He realizes suddenly - guiltily - that he has no idea what Sokka does with his free time. Before their-- before Zuko ruined everything, Sokka essentially spent all his time with Zuko, attending every meeting and audience, sharing every meal. Doubtless the Alpha has kept busy in the intervening week, but  _ where _ ? 

By the time Zuko returns to his body, he’s standing in the doorway to Azula’s old room, looking into the sun-soaked space with a pounding melancholy pressing against his ribs. He’s hit with a sudden, now-familiar wish for her in his arms. He misses the pup she was before Ozai ruined her, and Mother and Uncle abandoned her; the one who made skill-less macaroni portraits of their family with her tutors and killed the ember orchids because she didn’t understand that it’s possible to love too much sometimes, to give too much of a good thing. 

In a way, he even misses the pup she became later - the one with a mean streak and lightning in her eyes; the one who needed a gentle touch that Zuko couldn’t give, and nobody else thought her worthy of. He wishes he could tuck her inside him, hold her safe inside the contours of his body where she could heal in peace. 

This, of course, is where Sokka and Hakoda stumble upon  _ him _ . 

He smells them just before they round the corner. When they do, they both freeze, twin looks of surprise on their faces. Sokka is first to reanimate, closing off with a cough. Hakoda looks between them, takes an abortive step forward, then shakes his head. 

“I don’t know what’s going on between you,” Hakoda says with his hands up in surrender. “But I know I don’t want to get in the way of you fixing it. I’m going to find Bato.” Then the older Alpha is turning sharply on his heel, disappearing around the corner, and leaving them in the hall alone. 

Sokka takes a hesitant step forward, bows deeply. “Fire Lord Zuko.” 

Zuko gestures loosely to his crownless head, attempting a smile. “Not technically a Fire Lord right now.” 

The joke, if it could be called that, doesn’t land. Sokka just looks more uncomfortable, more unwilling to stand in this hall together without the safety net of formality between Fire Lord and Ambassador. Zuko feels the chasm in his chest open again, spreading like a wound freshly opened. 

_ I miss you _ , Zuko wants to admit.  _ I miss you so desperately. I want to hug you. I want to be held by you, smell your skin, let my forehead rest against the curve of your neck. I want to make you smile with one of my shitty jokes, and tell stories of all the times we missed on opposite sides of the war. I want you to rest your head against my shoulder and trust me with the weight of all your ugly and impossible moments.  _

Out loud he says, “I was looking for you,” which already feels too vulnerable, too honest by half. But he stays the course, does not turn and run away from this moment though he wants to more than anything in the world. 

“Oh?” Sokka glances up from the floor to catch Zuko’s gaze, but quickly looks away. 

Zuko nods sharply, though he knows Sokka can’t see it. “Yes,” he finally works out, heart impossibly loud in his chest. But he runs out of things to say, isn’t sure how to ask for them to return to what they had without asking for everything Sokka cannot - will not - give him. 

“Suki came today,” he says for want of anything else to say, shifting on his feet. 

Sokka nods, something close to a real smile on his face. “Yeah. We ran into one another in the entrance hall. She said you approved the mateships for Mai and Ty Lee.” 

Zuko feels an echo of the smile on his lips. “Yeah! Imagine my surprise.” He tries a laugh. It fails. “Actually, that’s why I wanted to find you. Part of the reason, anyway.” 

Sokka makes a noise Zuko isn’t sure how to discern, eyes finally rising to meet his. They only hold his gaze for a heartbeat before traveling down his body. Then he is tipping his head, gesturing further down the hall than Zuko is standing. “Let’s go in there. You should sit.” 

Zuko knows the room he’s referencing: a small space with large, high windows that was once a playroom for Lu Ten, then a bedroom for Azula and Zuko’s nanny, and now a stray lounge space at the end of an otherwise deserted hall. He steps into the room first, aware of Sokka’s eyes on his back as he enters a few moments later. They settle around a small tea table in the corner. The sun catches Sokka’s eyes, makes them waves on the open ocean, wild and infinite and too easy to drown in. Zuko looks away, fiddles with the cuff of his robe. Distantly, he realizes it’s a replica of the one he wore that fateful afternoon, white silk with blue trimming, this one closing with gold ribbons rather than silver. 

He takes a deep breath, goes to speak, but Sokka beats him to the punch. “You said you were surprised when Suki approached you for the clearances. Didn’t think Mai would say yes?” 

He says it with a smile, but there’s something in his tone that puts Zuko on edge, reminds Zuko far too much of those first weeks after he began training Aang, when every joke out of Sokka’s mouth was an attack. Something in his scent must give him away, because Sokka softens minutely, shifts, looks away. 

“I didn’t even know they were together,” Zuko admits after a tense pause. “The three of them, I mean. I’m thrilled, of course! I just-- This whole time I thought you and Suki were…” he gestures vaguely, not trusting himself to look anywhere near Sokka’s face. “Together,” he finishes haltingly. “Attached. Promised. Something.” 

He looks up to Sokka’s face, but it has gone smooth again, entirely unreadable. Zuko wonders how they strayed so far, then shuts down the thought entirely. 

“I thought you were lying,” Sokka says after the silence has gone from painfully tense to completely dead between them. “Or making up some excuse to-- to not be around me anymore. I thought you were trying to… I don’t know. Let me down easy, or something.” 

The wounded noise has escaped Zuko’s chest before he can stop it. He goes to reach out for Sokka’s hand on the table between them, but stops himself at the last second, well aware of the boundaries he’s accidentally thrown up between them. 

“Sokka-- No. No, that wasn’t-- Spirits, I’ve fucked this up so spectacularly.” 

“Why would you think we were still together?” Sokka scrubs a hand down his face, harsh and painful-looking. Zuko balls his hands into fists, buries them in his lap so he doesn’t reach out and attempt to soothe Sokka’s pain. “Why would I even be here if--” 

But there’s no end to the sentence, just a helpless confusion written across Sokka’s face. 

Zuko shrugs. “As far as I knew, you and Suki were still together. There was no reason to bring it up in conversation because it was a given. You’re-- you’re a good man, Sokka. A  _ really _ good man; one of the best I know. It makes sense to me that you would stay to help, even someone you would--” he stumbles, rights his words before he loses his nerve entirely. “Someone you don’t have romantic feelings for.” 

Sokka grimaces in agreement. Zuko looks away, shame burning hot in his throat. The silence between them is thick, made more oppressive by the distance between them, the lines they cannot seem to cross anymore. The sun sets quickly around them. Out of habit more than anything, Zuko lights the lamps in the room, noticing yet again that his bending feels different when he’s pupping, somehow less connected than he was before. 

“So, that was why I was looking for you,” Zuko says after the sun has completely set. “I wanted to… to apologize. I hurt you and you did absolutely nothing to deserve it. I was just so angry, and I lost control of myself. But that’s no excuse. I should never have accused you of-- of not caring for Suki in the first place, whether or not you two were actually together.” 

But Sokka shakes his head. “You didn’t hurt me.” 

“I did! I let you think I didn’t want you around, acted like I could handle myself and--” 

“Zuko, it was a misunderstanding.” Sokka reaches out as if to cradle Zuko’s hand in his own, but seems to remember himself in the last moments. After a painful pause, he rests his hand on top of Zuko’s covering it entirely. 

“You were literally fighting for your life when Suki and I broke things off. And after you woke up, she was on her merry way and you had things to do as Fire Lord. You were trying to do a nice thing last week, and I--” He shakes his head, scent going sweet with humour. “I got confused. I let-- I let my own situation get the better of me.” 

Zuko nods, eyes glued to their overlapping hands. “I would apologize for screaming at you, but if I started apologizing every time I yelled I would never stop.” This time the joke lands. It isn’t the hearty, belly laugh Zuko has gotten used to. But Sokka laughs, and for the first time all week, it sounds real.  _ Take the win _ , Zuko begs himself.  _ This will be over so soon and he will be gone.  _

Perversely, it is the knowledge that Sokka will soon be gone, off to be brilliant elsewhere that encourages Zuko to say, “I-- I never want space from you.” He clears his throat, well aware of the flush burning across his face. He looks up, eyes skittering across Sokka’s lips, not quite managing to meet his gaze. “Just, if it helps you not get, uh, get confused,” he reiterates haltingly. “You’re probably the only person I could tolerate being around all the time, so.” 

Sokka simply squeezes his hand, does not try to meet his eye. But his voice is warm and intimate when he says, “Understood,” and Zuko thinks they might finally have it as close to right as they ever will. 

{} 

Sokka’s laughter is still ringing in his ears as they step over the threshold into Kanna’s chambers. She looks up, eyes them speculatively. 

“So,” she begins with a tone so conversational it could only mean trouble. “Have  _ either  _ of you done what I suggested?” 

Zuko doesn’t need to look over to know that both he and Sokka have frozen up, locked in mingled shock and horror, though certainly for different reasons. Sokka, always the worse liar between them, begins croaking out awful fake laughs, voice high and tense as he struggles through some blatant falsehoods. Zuko suffices to shake his head quietly and lower himself slowly to the bamboo mat lain out in the center of the room. 

Sokka gives up on embarrassing himself for the moment, ears flushed and eyes strangely bright as Zuko begins to slip out of his topmost layer and expose his crest. For the last months, Zuko has stripped without artifice or shame, confident that Sokka’s eyes would be, if not appreciative, at least non-judgemental. But the way he looked at Zuko in the royal dressing room, face slack and unreadable, is too fresh in Zuko’s mind, their rift too newly healed. 

He clears his throat, glancingly meeting Sokka’s eye. “Could you, uhm. Could you turn around?” 

The Alpha pauses for a moment, as though incapable of comprehending what was just said. Then his whole face goes red, something Zuko was unaware was even possible, as he hurries to assent and give Zuko his back. 

Zuko scrambles to explain his sudden modesty, desperate not to drive Sokka away again. “I just-- y’know. Stretch marks. They’re, uh-- not the prettiest.” 

Sokka shrugs, scratches the back of his neck. Even through his heavier winter clothes, the bunch of his back muscles are a tempting sight. Zuko pushes the thought away with practiced ease, thinks of Uncle. 

“It’s fine,” Sokka is saying. “I get it. We all have our insecurities, silly as they might be.” 

Zuko sincerely doubts that Sokka, who looks like a fucking work of art, has anything on his body to be insecure about. 

“And besides,” Sokka continues. “I have… What did you call them? Stretch scars?” 

“Stretch marks,” Zuko corrects, hissing when Kanna’s hands, already naturally cool, touch his bare skin in the near-freezing room. 

“You okay?” Sokka’s spine is tight with alertness. He softens slightly when Zuko makes a noise of assent. “Anyway, I have growth rings too. Like, on my arms and stuff.” 

This time Zuko’s noise is impatient. “Yeah, but that’s different. Yours are from muscles.” 

Zuko can tell that Sokka is rolling his eyes. “Sure, Zuko. That totally makes sense. Mine are from muscles, and yours are from a literal miracle, but  _ you’re  _ the one who should be insecure about them.” 

Zuko, feeling uniquely helpless in light of Sokka’s… everything, knows his scent has gone sweet with affection by the sudden ease in Sokka’s spine, the way he turns his nose just slightly toward Zuko. The knowing look Kanna gives him through snow-white lashes as she carries on with her exam of his crest is fairly damning as well. 

She inhales as though to say something, but Zuko’s frantically shaking head stops her. Of course, his scent betrays him as Sokka’s head snaps around, brow furrowed and one side of his lips drawn down in concern. 

“Seriously, Zuko, are you alright?” 

Driven entirely by impulse, Zuko reaches out and wraps his hand around Sokka’s wrist, squeezes gently against the small scent gland hidden there. He looks up, catches Sokka’s eye. 

“I’m alright,” he says with a teasing smile. “Just stopping your grandmother from doing something silly.” 

Sokka laughs and Zuko is grateful he’s already on the floor because the sound of it, full and warm and infectious after so long with half laughs and stifled snorts, would certainly have knocked him onto his ass. 

“Good luck with that,” Sokka is saying, but Zuko has completely lost the thread of conversation. 

Kanna lifts an eyebrow, looking between the two of them with exasperation. But she doesn’t spill Zuko’s secret and he’s grateful. 

_ Just let me heal this a little more _ , he begs with his eyes.  _ Let me finish patching this rift between us. Let me know he left knowing I loved him as a friend did, fully and completely without demanding more from him than he could give. Let me have that gift. Please, don’t take that from me. _

He doesn’t know if Kanna got that message, but they pass the rest of this check up in peaceful silence, Sokka’s wrist caught in Zuko’s grasp. 

{}

Zuko can’t honestly justify standing here in Sokka’s doorway, watching him breathe deeply in his sleep. Anxiety had kept him awake deep into the night, and instincts have brought him here, to the doorway of his-- of his nothing. His friend who is providing stability to his hormones as an Alpha. His friend who is, in all likelihood, going to return home after his pup is born, leaving Zuko to fend for himself, raise a child by himself. 

No. Not by himself. Uncle will be here for at least a day or two, and Kanna has promised to stay for the first few weeks to help him settle. Toph will be here, making a fuss about not caring about the pup even as she tends gently to their needs, and Katara and Aang will be in and out of their lives. He won’t be alone. But Sokka won’t be here. And that-- that sets him on edge. Despite all Zuko’s misgivings about Alphas and mating, Sokka is-- Sokka would be the perfect mate. He  _ will  _ be the perfect mate to the partner of his choosing. He’s attentive and loving and gentle. He’s protective, funny, kind. He’s far better than Zuko deserves, and everything Zuko wishes he could give to his pup. 

Agni, his  _ pup _ . How is he going to raise a pup? What was he thinking? He should have asked Katara for herbs to induce labour months ago, back when his pup wasn’t moving and kicking and making Zuko love them even as he is terrified of destroying them just as his parents destroyed him. He has no idea how to do this, how to be a parent. His father mutilated him for speaking out of turn. His mother neglected Azula and abandoned her because she was not soft and loving the way Ursa wanted. He has two terrible examples of parenthood, following him like a shadow, impossible to avoid and equally impossible to forget. 

But standing in Sokka’s doorway, staring down at him like a creep, watching his chest expand and contract as he sleeps isn’t going to fix this problem. It’s just going to make him feel worse, thoughts spiraling back to Sokka’s future partner, the way they will stand in a doorway not dissimilar to this one before stepping into the room and climbing gracefully into bed, not the size of a moose whale and certainly not scarred in every way imaginable, so broken that they aren’t even sure if they can love their own pup. Zuko turns away, determined to make his way back to his chambers and forget this moment of weakness even happened. 

“Zuko?” 

Zuko freezes, turns to look at Sokka from the doorway. The Alpha is squinting from sleep, rubbing his eye with the back of one hand. “Are you okay?” Sokka asks. “Do you-- What-- Are you alright?” 

Zuko nods, forces a smile across his face. “I’m okay,” he says, voice just loud enough to carry across the small chamber. “Sorry for waking you. Go back to sleep.” 

“Wait, Sunshine.” Zuko finds himself frozen once more, now terrifyingly close to tears at the unexpected pet name. “Just-- What do you need? Come sit.” Sokka sits up more fully, draping the covers over his hips even as he beckons Zuko forward. Helpless, Zuko steps deeper into the room. He sits gingerly on the bed, conscious of how much space he takes up, how unsteady his bones feel in his body. 

“Sorry,” Zuko repeats. “I-- I was just really anxious and I couldn’t sleep. I don’t know why I’m here.” 

Sokka makes a soft, sympathetic noise. “Anything you want to talk about?” 

_ No _ , Zuko thinks.  _ No I absolutely do not want to talk about how you are perfect and wonderful and I am not. I don’t want to discuss with you how deeply I will miss you when you move on, how I will ache each time I see you with your perfect somebody, how I am already destroyed at the thought of you leaving and you haven’t even left yet. _

What comes out of his mouth is, “I’m going to break them,” which honestly isn’t better. 

This time, Sokka’s noise is confused. “Break who? The pup?” 

Then Zuko is speaking and he cannot stop. “I-- I’m going to be a terrible parent. Absolutely horrible. I’m going to break them just like my parents broke me. What if-- What if I hate them? What if I look at them and all I can see is  _ him _ ? What if-- what if I don’t like their personality? What am I supposed to do then? What if-- Spirits, what if they turn out like me? I’m a terrible person. I’m horrible and weak and mean. I— I  _ killed _ somebody and I don’t even regret it! I don’t want them to be like me. I-- I don’t know how to do this, Sokka. My father was a maniac who could only love us when we were perfect. My mother thought Azula was a monster. What if  _ I  _ think my pup is a monster? What if I can’t--” 

“Woah, woah, woah. Zuko. Sunshine. Slow down. Breathe with me: in and out. There you go. Again. In… and out… Good. Soft breaths now. You’re safe. You’re alright.” Sokka guides him through deep breaths, pressing Zuko’s hands against his chest, letting him feel the thunder of Sokka’s heart beneath his skin, the rise and fall of his ribs. “Good,” Sokka praises, and a small, mean thing in Zuko’s chest riots against it. “Good,” Sokka reiterates. “You’re good. You’re going to be okay. You can do this.” 

Zuko can only shake his head. “No I can’t. I can’t do this.” 

“You can.” Sokka shifts his hand, holds Zuko’s face gently between his palms. His hands are cool, shockingly so, wildly different from Ozai’s on that fateful day. “Look at me, Zuko. Look at me.” 

Zuko does so, reluctantly meeting Sokka’s blue eyes with his own. Sokka is so beautiful Zuko thinks he is going to weep. 

“You can do this, Zuko. You’re already doing it. Loving this pup is in your bones, in every part of you already. I can see it; everyone can. It’s like a silver sandwich.” 

Zuko chokes on a laugh, prays he doesn’t choke on tears. “That was a shitty proverb that didn’t even work!” 

“I know! It was terrible! But I’m like ninety-nine percent certain that’s how parenting works. Nobody knows what they’re doing, Zuko. Everyone is just improvising, thinking on their feet. And sure it doesn’t always make sense. But when shit hits wind, what’s your first instinct?” 

Sokka is clearly looking for an answer but Zuko doesn’t have one. He shrugs. “Yell?” 

Sokka rolls his eyes. “Encourage. Inspire. You try  _ so  _ hard, Sunshine. You believe in the good in everyone, but especially the people you love. And you’re  _ going  _ to love this pup. Already you spend every day, hours on end, working to make this world better for them. And sure, raising a pup is scary. It takes a village. But I don’t think there’s a village on earth more loving than the people you have around you. You know Toph would do anything for you, and I’m pretty sure Gran Gran has adopted you outright. You’re never getting rid of her.” 

Sokka releases his grip on Zuko’s face, and for a brief moment Zuko thinks that Sokka will press his hands to the glands on his neck, soothe him with that grounding touch. But it’s a fantasy, a pipe dream that isn’t worth indulging because Sokka isn’t his and never will be. Sokka’s hands find their way to Zuko’s. He tugs gently. “Come lay down,” he says quietly. “Everything is scarier at night and you’re lucky enough to live someplace where the sun rises all year.” 

Halfway between disbelief and awe, Zuko follows Sokka’s gentle tug and finds himself in the center of a bed that smells of wild berries and freshly fallen snow, his base scent of pine soaked deep into the fabric. Trying to be as unobtrusive as possible, he takes the scent into his mouth, letting it linger on his palate. 

Just for tonight, he can pretend. He can pretend Sokka is his, pretend they are mated and married, pretend Sokka sired the pup in his belly. Just for tonight. In the morning he will slip away and let them both forget this embarrassing display of weakness. But for now he will play make believe. With Sokka’s help he slips beneath the covers and settles himself with pillows in all the most comfortable places. Sokka slides beside him to lay flat on his back, staring at the ceiling. Zuko watches Sokka’s eyes flutter shut, his breath becoming even and deep. Hesitantly, afraid of waking the Alpha and ruining the fantasy before it begins, he reaches out and rests his hand against Sokka’s chest. One of Sokka’s hands comes down from where it was sprawled above his head to trap Zuko’s hand where it is, pressing against the pound of Sokka’s heart. 

Zuko lets out an exhale he didn’t realize he was holding. It comes out too harsh for the silence, but Sokka doesn’t wake. Slowly, Zuko shifts close enough to rest his head against Sokka’s chest. Zuko nuzzles into the warm skin, coats himself in the Alpha’s scent while he has the chance. Finally, he lets his own eyes flutter shut. Sleep doesn’t find him, but that’s alright. The sooner he falls asleep, the sooner this dream ends. After a long while simply resting in the dark, Sokka’s thumb gently rasps against the back of Zuko’s hand. 

“I know you aren’t asleep,” Sokka rumbles. 

Immediately, Zuko snatches his hand away. He stares, mortified beyond belief, as Sokka turns his head and looks at him. Zuko slams his eyes shut, like that will make this better, then he opens them again, feeling monumentally stupid. He clambers his way upright, pulling away when Sokka reaches out to help. He shouldn’t push Sokka away, shouldn’t drive the Alpha further from him when his departure is already so soon. But Zuko feels raw, exposed and burning with shame, at his least lovable, his most pitiful, most disgusting. 

“Zuko, wha--” 

“Don’t.” Zuko shouldn’t snap. He shouldn’t, but he does anyway, because this is what he is good at: pushing people away, driving them to leave before they can do it of their own accord. “Don’t, alright? Just-- just don’t.” He shifts awkwardly until he is sitting at the edge of the bed, feeling like a cat dragging its ass across the dirt to rub away its shit. He buries his head in his hands, pausing to dredge up some frayed dignity before the ordeal that standing up from soft surfaces like this one has become. 

“Zuko, please don’t-- don’t run. Can’t we just-- can we talk, at least?” 

“About what?! What is there to talk about, Sokka?! Fuck!” He looks back just in time to see the lost, hurt look on Sokka’s face. “Fuck,” repeats quietly, scrubbing harshly at his face. 

“Zuko,  _ please _ talk to me. Help me understand.” 

“What is there to understand, Sokka? I-- You’re here to support the pup; offer hormones to stabilize me until I’m done pupping. But eventually,  _ soon _ , I won’t be pupping anymore. The pup will be here. And you-- you won’t be. You’ll go home, or leave, or-- And I’ve been so  _ stupid _ and let myself get attached to you being here when you’re going to leave and I’ve known that from the beginning! You said yourself: you don’t want to be listed as sire. You don’t want to raise this pup. You don’t want to be with  _ me _ . And that’s-- that’s fine, okay? It’s fine. I get it. I wouldn’t want to raise a pup with me either. It’s just--” Zuko pauses, tries to find some composure, some part of himself that isn’t rapidly unraveling. He pushes forward even as tears are falling, knowing he’ll never find the courage to say this again if he stops now. “It’s just hard, okay? It’s hard because you’re-- you’re  _ you _ ! You’re handsome, and clever, and funny, and kind, and protective, and-- Spirits, you’re the perfect mate. And you’re gonna leave. You just are. You’re gonna find someone else, someone who doesn’t cry at the drop of a hat and isn’t the size of a moose whale and who isn’t terrible, and I’ll-- I won’t be in that portrait. And that’s-- that’s hard.” 

Sokka is damningly quiet for a long moment. Zuko coughs out a laugh to stop himself from sobbing and goes to stand. Before he can, Sokka’s hand is wrapped around his wrist, holding him in a surprisingly firm grip. 

“Wait,” Sokka says. His voice is tight, pitched low. “Please, just. Just wait, Zuko. You’ve said your piece. Let me say mine.” 

Reluctantly, Zuko stays seated. Sokka tugs gently, tries to turn Zuko around, but Zuko resists. He doesn’t turn or even look over his shoulder. He doesn’t want to see the pity written across Sokka’s face as he breaks Zuko’s heart. He can’t bear to see it, not now, not when he is already so worn thin. 

Sokka sighs heavily. Zuko feels the tension in his spine tighten further at the sound. Then Sokka is shifting behind him, slotting his thighs outside Zuko’s. His arms come up slowly, giving Zuko ample time to push them away. One hand finds its way to Zuko’s crest, slipping between the folds of his sleep robe to softly caress bare skin. The other wraps around him to rest against Zuko’s heart. His breath is warm on the back of Zuko’s shoulder, Sokka’s forehead resting at the base his neck. 

Zuko feels himself relaxing, though crumbling may be a more apt term. “Please,” he whispers. “Please don’t-- don’t do this. Don’t give me hope. I can’t-- Hope is a hemorrhage, and I’ll bleed my whole life for you. Please.” 

Sokka’s arms tighten around him, holding him steady against the breadth of his chest. “Stop. Stop telling yourself I’m going to leave. I’m not going anywhere, Zuko.” 

“You are--” 

“I’m  _ not _ .” 

Zuko sobs, an ugly, animal sound, but Sokka just holds him tighter, presses a kiss to the skin of his shoulder. 

“I’m not going anywhere, Zuko.” The Alpha’s voice goes rough suddenly, hands trembling against Zuko’s skin. “Tui and La, Zuko. I-- I’m so disappointed in myself. I can’t believe I let you think, even for a second, that I was going to leave. When I said-- I meant I didn’t  _ have _ to be listed as sire. I meant that I wasn’t going to try to take the pup from you, or control you. I didn’t want to be like the other Alphas in your past, ruling over you because you’re an Omega, or demanding your body as payment. I wanted to offer you freedom. Instead I convinced you I didn’t want you, when that couldn’t be further from the truth.

“Zuko, I’m not looking for anyone else. I don’t know where you got this idea that I’m looking for someone perfect, whatever the fuck that means. I’ve got the whole world right here,  _ right _ in my arms. I--  _ Fuck _ , Zuko. You don’t know how much you mean to me. You-- you’re everything I want in a life partner. You love so completely, and you work so hard to do what’s right, and you aren’t afraid to stand for what you believe in. You’re fucking  _ gorgeous _ . Spirits, Zuko, have you ever looked at yourself in a mirror? Everything about you is beautiful. You’re funny, especially when you aren’t trying to be, and you’re kinda scary? Like you could definitely murder me in my sleep, and that’s not exactly hurting the appeal.” 

Zuko coughs out a laugh, feels something closer to human. Sokka squeezes tighter still. “You smile and it’s like the sun coming out from behind the clouds. You laugh and I feel like the planet just exploded inside my chest. You walk into the room and the edges of everything go soft. I’m drawn to you helplessly. And your pup-- Spirits, Zuko. I already love them so much. I would already lay down my life for them. They aren’t even here and I’m wrapped around their finger. I-- if you wanted, and only if you were totally okay with it-- I would be honored to raise a pup with you. You aren’t terrible, I don’t know where-- Well. I do know where, but that isn’t a conversation I want to have right now. I want to talk about how much I want to be with you, and build a life with you. I would love to be your pup’s Appi. Nothing would make me happier.” 

Zuko lets himself relax further into Sokka’s arms. He brings up a single, trembling hand to rest against Sokka’s on his crest, a mirror to their earlier position. “You-- you mean that? You aren’t just saying it to get me to stop crying? Because that would be really shitty.” 

Sokka laughs quietly, shifts even closer, somehow. “You’re right, that would be shitty. But I’m not. I mean every word.”

“Then why didn’t you say something sooner?” 

Sokka shrugs, seems to shrink in on himself. Zuko holds his hand tighter. 

“You’re so radiant, Zuko. Everything about you just… glows. I-- I don’t glow, okay? I’m normal. I’m not a bender. I’m not royalty. I come from a small, decimated population on the literal bottom of the planet. I didn’t think there was a point in saying anything when you could have anyone you wanted. You didn’t need me. You  _ don’t _ need me; you never have. And I love that about you, really. But I was afraid that if I rocked the boat, if I told you what you mean to me, you would have to tell me the truth. You’d have to tell me that I’m not like you; that I don’t exist in the same world and never will. And there were times when I thought you felt the same, but they were so fleeting that I convinced myself I was just imagining things - reading too deep into something that wasn’t there. So I just… didn’t say anything. I was kinda hoping you wouldn’t notice if I never left.” 

Zuko brings his other hand up to hold the one against his chest and squeezes gently. “That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard in my life.” Sokka snorts hard, whole body shaking with laughter. Zuko laughs too, harder than he thought he would, harder than he thought he could anymore, breathless and dizzy with disbelief. 

“I’m serious,” Zuko says when he finally gets his breath back. “You aren’t-- you glow, okay? You do. I swear on it, you do. And I couldn’t give a sea rat’s ass that you aren’t royalty. I  _ truly _ do not care. I-- I love-- Uhm. You’re perfect,” he finally settles on, flushing so hard he’s certain Sokka can feel it radiating off him. “You’re perfect exactly as you are; no bending, not royalty, from a decimated population on the literal bottom of the planet. I love-- that. You. Fuck, Sokka, I’m so bad at this.” 

Sokka laughs, but it isn’t mean, isn’t like the billion other times someone has laughed at him when he was vulnerable and  _ trying _ . Sokka presses a multitude of kisses against his shoulder and neck, softer than silk and just as soothing against his skin. “Me too, Sunshine. I think I’ve proven that I’m absolute trash at this love thing. But you know what I think?” 

Zuko studiously ignores the trip of his heart at Sokka’s use of the word love. “What?” 

“I think we’d be better at it if we weren’t so damn sleepy. We should go to bed.” 

Zuko laughs. This time he follows when Sokka tugs gently, crawling as well as he can over the plush expanse of bed. Sokka sees his grimace and immediately pauses. “Hey, do you want to go back to your nest? It’s way firmer, easier to maneuver across.” 

Zuko wants to say no. He wants to cling to his pride and pretend he doesn’t need help or accommodation. But when he looks at Sokka he doesn’t see pity or frustration; just a yearning to help, eyes that see an opportunity to make his life better. Zuko nods, sighing heavily. “Yeah, that would probably be best.” 

Without prompting or comment, Sokka helps him to the edge of the bed and onto his feet. He’s a quiet source of support as they walk down the halls to Zuko’s chambers, never once commenting when Zuko needs to pause and rub his back or shift his robes so his form is completely covered. Back in Zuko’s chambers, he helps Zuko strip out of his outer robes, stroking bared skin reverently even as Zuko tries to hide it away.

“You’re gorgeous,” he whispers, “radiant. I’m here.” 

He’s here. Even if it’s just for now. Even if he decides ten minutes from now that he’s going to leave. For now he’s here. Zuko lets himself drift into sleep, rocked by the even rise and fall of Sokka’s chest against his back, Sokka’s thumb caressing his crest, Sokka’s breath against the nape of his neck. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!! IT FINALLY HAPPENED!!!!!! was it good? did it meet your standards? come scream with me in the comments (or just say something nice - i live off that shit.) see y'all next Wednesday!! 
> 
> p.s. don't worry. i haven't forgotten about Iroh (and neither has Sokka)


	6. five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zuko chooses not to say anything, but dares Sokka with his eyes to agree with Kanna. Sokka, the self-preserving fucker he is, smiles nervously and flexes his fingers in Zuko’s tight grip.   
> “We’ll discuss it later?” he tries.   
> “We’ll discuss your murder later,” Zuko huffs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry about the delay in uploading - there was a coup at my nation's capitol and i was a bit distracted, lmao. in other news, ASPtL has come to a close! but have no fear!! there will be more from this universe coming soon! please be patient with me, since i am returning to school soon and will need to focus on that a bit more. thank you all SO MUCH for coming with me on this journey and being so incredibly supportive, encouraging, and inspiring!! much love to you all! 
> 
> p.s. i know there are probably typos. i'm incredibly exhausted, but i promise to go back in later (tomorrow? later today?) and fix them all. thanks for being patient!

_ I really should expect these attacks  _ , Zuko thinks wryly as Toph stomps into the doorway, staring at them with a suspicious tilt to her brow, feet planted in the floor as she stands with eerie stillness. Just when Zuko thinks they may avoid interrogation after all, Sokka shifts beside him and the ruse is up. 

Toph points an accusing finger at the Alpha, eyes squinted in victory. “Did you finally grow a pair and say something?” 

Sokka groans, slumps sideways to bury his head in one hand. Zuko lays a conciliatory hand on his knee beneath the table. “Y’know,” Sokka says on a heavy sigh. “If I hadn’t, you could have made things really awkward between us.” 

Toph scoffs, coming close enough to slide haphazardly into a seat. Her hair has been braided into two neat rows down her head and trailing across her back, making her appear even more ram-like than usual. “No,” she insists somewhat petulantly, as though offended to be questioned. “I told you Zuko had the hots for you.” 

“How could you possibly have known that?” Zuko asks, realizing his mistake far too late as Toph’s expression turns devilish. 

“Well, your heart makes a funny ba-BUMP every time Sokka walks into a room.” 

The Alpha in question makes a miraculous recovery from his mortification to leer playfully at Zuko. “Your heart goes ba-bump when you see me?” he asks, voice low and sultry, and - horrifyingly - turning Zuko on. 

Before he can make a scathing comment in return (something to the tune of  _ my heart is always going ba-bump; that’s how heartbeats work, dumbass _ ) Toph is coming to Zuko’s rescue. 

“Don’t get all smug, lover-boy. Your heart trips over its feet then goes double time every time Zuko smiles at you.” 

“Ha!” Zuko crows, wiggling a little dance in his seat to Toph’s squawking laughter. “You liiiike me,” he sing-songs. “You really, really liiiiiiike me.” 

“Yeah,” Sokka says, sounding a bit incredulous, a little strangled. “I love you; that’s the whole point. Weren’t you there last night?” 

All of the wind is knocked out of Zuko’s sails as he stares dumbfoundead, entirely blindsided by anyone, really, but  _ especially  _ Sokka, declaring their love for him so simply and brazenly. He’s saved from gaping like a damn koi fish by Toph’s heartfelt: 

“EWWWWWWWWWWWWWW!” She’s plugged her ears and shakes her head so wildly Zuko fears she’s going to topple out of the chair. “I don’t want to hear about what you two did last night!! That’s disgusting!!!!” 

Zuko rolls his eyes and reaches out to unplug her ears before she injures herself. “Relax,” he says evenly. “Nobody’s talking about  _ that _ . We just... had a conversation.” 

“Liar,” Toph insists, deciding to cross her arms and pout dramatically in favour of re-plugging her ears. “You smell like each other.” 

“I stayed over last night,” Sokka cuts smoothly. “But just to sleep; nothing more.” 

Toph rolls her eyes, but seems genuinely mollified by this information. “Yeah, yeah; don’t bore me with the details. What’s for lunch?” 

Sokka and Toph immediately launch into the finer points of a debate of the merits of stew versus sushi, a conversation Zuko could not possibly care less about. Still, he listens, taking in their passionate tones with what he knows is an unbearably sappy smile thinking, for the first time in a long time, that things might actually work out alright. 

{}

“Oh, I hate this.” 

These are the first words out of Kanna’s mouth at the sight of the birthing chambers, and honestly? Zuko agrees with her wholeheartedly. The room is small and dark, buried in the bowels of the West Wing without a single window or even a pot to piss in. The floor is an unforgiving, rough-hewn stone stained with what seems to be dried blood and other bodily fluids in various places across the room. The collection of nesting materials are threadbare, and the walls themselves seem to be drenched in overlapping anxiety and pain smells. 

“Yeah,” Sokka agrees, looking around the room, then to the Fire Sages standing in the corner. “It doesn’t exactly scream rest and relaxation.” 

One Fire Sage huffs. “The birth of a royal is a momentous occasion, one of hardship and glory for the Omega chosen to carry on the line. It isn’t supposed to be evocative of rest and relaxation.” 

“Oh, and you know of this glory and hardship from personal experience?” Zuko shoots back. When the Fire Sage begins tripping over his words, gesturing wildly to explain himself, Zuko rolls his eyes and holds up a quelling hand. “Let me know when you’ve pushed a pup out of your body. Until then, do us all a favour and keep quiet about what it does and doesn’t mean.” 

Kanna chuckles, clearly delighted and tickled. “That’s my grandson,” she informs the silent Fire Sage primly, before returning to her exploration of the room. She prods the pile of nesting materials with her foot, ignoring the apoplectic shock the first Fire Sage seems to have gone into. 

“So,” she says succinctly, looking to Zuko with a perfectly neutral expression. “Do you want to pup here?” 

“Agni, no,” he says, edging around yet another stain on the floor. “But I-- don’t really have anywhere else. This was the only plan.” 

“Nonsense!” Kanna comes closer, clutching gently at his elbow and hauling Sokka up by the back of his shirt before he can inspect an ominous stain near the door too closely. “Come! We’ll return to your chambers and think of something. It’s never too late - not even when the pup is coming.” 

“I mean,” Sokka says, still being pulled backward out of the room and down the hall. “That does kind of sound late. If the pup is already coming, that doesn’t seem like a good time to have a heart-to-heart about the merits of one location versus another.” 

Without so much as looking back, Kanna shifts her grip from his shirt to his ear and continues pulling him. “When your input is welcome, Sokka, we’ll ask for it.” 

Sokka whines but allows himself to be towed along by his diminutive grandmother, offering only a defeated, “Yes, ma’am,” in response. 

When they arrive at Zuko’s chambers, Chief Hakoda and Bato are already waiting for them. They both stand and sketch low bows, though Bato is holding a long, paper-covered package. 

Hakoda rolls his eyes and dips his chin toward Sokka, who is only now being released from Kanna’s grip. “What did he say?” 

Sokka’s defensive squawk is summarily ignored by the group. 

“Only putting his ship where boats needn’t sail,” Kanna says easily, sitting on the low couch with a sigh. She eyes the package in Bato’s hand for a long moment, then smiles, something in her scent going soft and sweet. “But I see you have something for the Amma-to-be.” 

Bato and Hakoda nod, stepping toward Zuko in unison. Bato passes over the package, watching with keen eyes as Zuko carefully unwinds the string binding. Nestled within the paper is a beautiful expanse of fabric, dyed a deep, wine-dark red with arctic animals embroidered in white, deep grey, ice blue, and black. The inside is lined with soft, pure white fur, worn down in places and softer because of it. 

Sokka makes a soft sound, reaching out as though to touch it only to stop just before his fingers make contact. 

“Thank you, this is beautiful. But I-- I don’t understand,” Zuko says, looking to Bato for clarification. “What have you just given me?” 

“It’s--” Sokka clears his throat, finally lays his large hand on the soft fur inside. “It’s a swaddling cloth for pups.” 

Hakoda steps forward slightly, lays an arm around Bato’s shoulder. “Specifically, it’s the swaddling cloth Kya made for Sokka and Katara.” 

A soft noise is punched out of Zuko as he looks back to the cloth, admiring its craftsmanship and beauty. As he unrolls the fabric to its entirety, he sees that the red-side is actually a landscape of sorts, with an embroidered version of the South Pole at the center, where the pup’s body would lie. 

“I-- I can’t--” he tries to give the cloth back, tries to hand it to someone, but nobody will take it. “Please, this is a family heirloom; I can’t take this.” 

Bato shakes his head. “We know it’s a family heirloom, Zuko; that’s why we’re giving it to you. And if you have an Omega in your line, you can pass it down to them.” 

Another broken sound emerges from Zuko’s throat. “I’ve already taken so much,” he insists, still trying to force Bato’s hands to form around the parcel. He’s making a fool of himself, he knows he is, but he can’t seem to stop. “Please, I’m not-- I’m not worth all this, please--” 

Bato engulfs him in a hug, holds tighter when Zuko bursts into tears and burrows himself into the older Omega’s arms, the swaddling cloth caught between them. From behind, Sokka appears, wrapping his arms around both of them and nuzzling gently into Zuko’s hair. Chief Hakoda’s scent, rich with love and grief, is next to join their huddle. Never one to be left out, Kanna worms her way into their hug, slipping under arms and stepping on her son-in-law’s foot if his grunt is any indication. 

Slowly, after all Zuko’s tears have dried to a salty mess on Bato’s shoulder, they unravel until Zuko is left standing beside Bato, tucked under his arm. He clutches the swaddling cloth to his chest, running his fingers through the soothing, soft fur. 

“Thank you,” he croaks, shifting only to bow lowly before tucking himself back into Bato’s side. “Truly, I can’t-- I can’t thank you enough for this.” 

Bato squeezes him tighter, presses a kiss to his head. “You don’t have to thank us.” 

“I’m going to anyway,” Zuko insists, going willingly when Bato urges them toward the low couch in the sitting area. “I don’t know what I can do to repay you, but I’ll think of something, I promise.” 

Hakoda shakes his head, sitting on Bato’s other side with a sigh. “You’re bringing new life into the world and allowing us to be a part of that miraculous journey,” he says easily. “Not to mention, you’ve taken Sokka off our hands. You’ve already repaid us quite handsomely.” 

Sokka puts up only token protest at being referred to like worrisome cattle before settling himself on the floor, close enough to receive scalp scritches from Zuko’s outstretched hand. 

Toph peeks her head in the door, scenting the air unabashedly before stepping in. “Why do I feel like I missed a group hug?” 

Zuko shrugs, a useless gesture since he’s pulled his feet up to sit cross-legged on the couch. “We can have another one, if you like?” 

She shakes her head with a groan and enters the room, slipping neatly to the couch before bullying herself into Kanna’s personal space, resting her head on the matron’s thigh without asking. Kanna waves off the scolding Zuko was gathering breath to unleash, running a weathered hand over Toph’s hair. “They’re not as good when they’re planned, are they?” she asks, making a commiserative noise when Toph nods vigorously. “I happen to feel the same way.” 

“So did you go to the pup room thingy?” Toph finally asks, sounding half-asleep. 

Zuko buries his head in one hand with a defeated groan, the other busy applying expert head-scratches to Sokka’s scalp. “Ugh, yes. It’s terrible. I’m not using it; I won’t.” 

Toph makes a humming noise. “So you’ll pup in here?” 

Zuko shrugs, looks through the open doorway to his nest, hidden on the back wall. “I guess? It seems like a waste of perfectly good bed sheets, though.” 

“You could do a water birth,” Bato suggests. “That’s what’s done in the Southern Water Tribe.” 

Zuko shakes his head. “I don’t think my bathtub is deep enough, and I’m hardly going to have a pup out in the turtle-duck pond in the middle of winter.” 

Toph starts to speak, but a yawn catches her off guard. Of course, she continues speaking through the yawn, leading to a series of entirely unintelligible noises followed by the hearty smacking of her lips. 

“What did you just say?” Kanna asks with a laugh. 

“I said, I can make Zuko a pool that’s big enough. My mother had one in her chambers. I know how big they’re supposed to be and stuff.” 

“You said all of that during that one yawn?” Sokka asks, incredulous enough for all of them. 

Toph shrugs one shoulder. “What can I say? I aim to impress.” 

“What are you going to make it out of?” Bato asks, sounding genuinely interested in the process. 

Toph shrugs again. “That’s up to Sparky. Whatever rock or metal he can get to the palace before his pup is here, I can bend into a pupping pool.” 

“Sorry,” Hakoda begins. “You can bend  _ metal _ ?” 

Zuko and Sokka make twin noises that roughly translate to  _ oh Spirits, you don’t know the can of worms you’re opening _ . Toph slowly, maniacally, grins. 

{}

Slowly and without announcement, like they’re hoping Zuko won’t notice, all of Zuko’s friends begin to arrive. 

Aang is first, bringing with him a gaggle of airbending pups, all of whom seem obsessed with touching Zuko’s crest and feeling the pup move. Zuko lets them, trying not to be as outwardly excited as they are. Still, he can’t help casting a furtive look toward Sokka when this happens, thinking of what it will be like in five or so years when all of his friends have children to play with their pup-on-the-way, filling the halls with the sound of their laughter. Katara is next, grown taller and broader to match her brother and father, but hugging the same way: sweetly, on her toes, and a little too tight to breathe. 

Mai, Suki, and Ty Lee arrive a day later, a whirlwind of happy engagement news and the sort of deadly grace that only comes with being a Kyoshi Warrior and never really seems to leave, even as they do mundane things around the palace, like touring the snowy royal gardens. 

Even Pipsqueak, Smellerbee, and the Duke make an appearance. Zuko tries to convince them to stay at least until the pup is born, but they only smile and head out on their way, a small family determined to stay on the move. Still, Zuko is happy to see them, happy to know that even his most far-flung friends seem to have made it past the war with something to anchor them. 

Zuko allows the ruse, pretends not to be constricted by the sheer number of people that now seem to want to be around him. He’d gotten used to being alone, then to Toph and Sokka’s presence, and eventually extending his bubble to include Hakoda, Bato, and Kanna. But even that was stretching him thin, making him feel watched and wanted in ways he wasn’t used to. 

Bato finds him hiding in the recently finished ballroom, admiring the intricate mosaic tiling on the floor. 

“Zuko?” 

Zuko turns, smiles a bit absently. “Am I needed?” 

Bato shakes his head, offers a faint smile in return. “Not in an official capacity, no.” Bato allows the silence to settle, clearly admiring the echo-capacity of the space. Then, “There’s quite a few guests in the palace these days,” he says, offering a knowing smile. 

Zuko shrugs sheepishly, running his fingers down the gold pillar with a soft sigh. “Sokka is happy,” he says, which doesn’t address Bato’s point exactly, but is something to say in response. 

“He’s just like his father,” Bato says with a sigh. “Always the leader; always with eyes on him.” 

“How do you handle it,” Zuko asks. “Being mated to someone so…” He flails his hands outward and open into a wide arc, trying to encompass the way Sokka seemed to be able to give and give, around people all the time without getting tired or losing his cool. 

The older Omega shrugs. “Doing exactly what we’re doing now: hiding.” 

Zuko blinks at him. “That’s it? That’s your advice?” 

Bato nods sagely. “Hakoda knows I’m not going to last the whole night at a party,” he says simply. “So I tell him where I’m disappearing to, and then I just leave.” 

“Just like that,” he confirms, feeling a little numb. 

“Just like that. We know who we are; we know what can be expected and what would be cruel to ask.” 

Before Zuko can think of something to say in response, anything to fill the silence that necessarily follows something so profound, Hakoda is pushing open the door, his mirror image behind him. Sokka’s face opens in a grin at the sight of Zuko. He runs forward, nearly tipping them both onto the floor with the force he hits Zuko with, rocking them back a few steps. Still, Zuko finds himself laughing, pressing his nose to Sokka’s throat with a desperate sort of intensity. 

“I missed you,” Sokka whispers, which is shocking and absurd in equal measure. 

“You saw me two hours ago,” Zuko says, though he cannot hide the pleased flush rising to his cheeks and ears at the thought of someone as radiant and magnetic as Sokka missing his irritable, temperamental personality. 

“So?” Sokka asks, pressing a wet, sloppy kiss to Zuko’s cheek. “I still missed you.” 

“Let the poor man breathe, Sokka,” Bato calls with a laugh. 

Dutifully, Sokka helps Zuko right himself, still smiling with a dazed, sweet look. 

Even when they’re both upright Sokka stays close, lacing their fingers together and leaning into Zuko’s space. 

“You’re in a mood,” Zuko murmurs, aware of their (admittedly indulgent) audience of two only a few feet away. 

“I told you,” Sokka says, pulling up their laced fingers to press a kiss to the back of Zuko’s hand. “I missed you. I didn’t see you most of the day, and then you disappeared from the party.” 

Zuko feels a flash of guilt, suddenly certain that Bato was wrong, or at least his hiding method only worked with Hakoda. “Sorry,” he says with a wince. “I’ll-- I can stay longer, next time.” 

“What?” Sokka shoots him a confused look, brow pinched as he turns to face Zuko more fully. “Why would you do that?” 

Now Zuko is confused. “Isn’t that what you want?” 

Sokka shrugs. “Eh? Of course I love being around you. I’d never say  _ no  _ if you wanted to hang out with us all night. But you’re like Bato,” he says, like that explains everything. Maybe it does. Zuko looks over to Bato and Hakoda, who are slow-dancing to a song that isn’t playing, uncaring that Sokka and Zuko might see them, judge them ridiculous or immature. 

Sokka, apparently inspired, pulls him closer, places Zuko’s arms in the right position, and begins leading them around the room in a rolling, turning dance that makes Zuko think of the tide coming in to shore. Quietly, though nothing stays quiet forever in this hulking cavern of a room, Sokka begins to sing. 

“On a distant shore, there’s an O I’ve come to love, with sweet gold eyes and a heart that comes to meet me when I return with beads in his hair and breast to rest my head upon; to him I go.” 

On he sings in his pleasing, rich tenor voice of the love of his Omega, likened to the roar of the sea, the beauty of the moon, the thrill of the hunt, and the safety of the nest. At times, Hakoda sings as well, a scratchy bass that rings wonderfully in the room and complements his son’s soaring melody perfectly. 

They come to a gentle, rocking stop in the center of the room like a ship finally pulling into port, eyes locked on one another. Sokka shifts, brushing his hands across the exposed glands on Zuko’s neck to cup his face. 

“His name is like a prayer I whisper to the night: Guide me, oh Spirits, to find him once I’ve roamed into another life,” he finishes quietly. “To you, I go; to you, I go.” 

Applause erupts from the doorway where all their friends have apparently amassed to watch them whirl around the ballroom, but Zuko isn’t paying attention to that. He isn’t paying attention to anything other than Sokka, bodies pressed as close together as they can with his pup between them, lips locked in the sweetest embrace. 

_ Enjoy it,  _ Zuko begs himself, gripping Sokka’s robes a little tighter.  _ Enjoy this while you have it, while he is here, with you, breathing in the same air. Enjoy it, because he could leave. He is with you now, and that matters, but it might not be forever. It isn’t forever. Nothing is forever, nothing lasts for you, so enjoy this now. And when the time comes, when he finally decides to go, you’ll have this, burned into your mind, into your skin, your soul, and you can cherish it when you go cold at night. Enjoy it.  _

Sokka pulls away, presse their foreheads together, one hand sneaking down to hold his waist, palm against the side of his crest. “I’m here,” he whispers, a mantra he’s taken up after their first night together. “I’m here.” 

_ For now _ , Zuko thinks, and wishes he didn’t. 

{} 

Zuko wakes as he has not awoken in months: all at once, and in excruciating pain. 

His hands fly down to his crest, as though he could hold the deep, twisting pain between his palms. He finds another hand already there, a weight he would recognize in any world, in every life - Sokka. The Alpha is already smiling at him, though the edges of his lips are pulled tight. 

“Hey there, Sunshine.” 

The words are quiet, fond, worried. Zuko dredges up a smile as the pain recedes. As he takes stock of his body he finds that he feels very far from sunshine-y. 

When Sokka coaxed him away from his scrolls and into his nest… hours? Some unknown time ago, the pains were negligible; nothing worse than he’d felt in years before during red moons or in the early stages of heat. Certainly, it had not rivalled the scorching pain of being burned by his father. Now, he understands that this pain will be fundamentally different than that day four years ago. This will be far,  _ far  _ worse. 

He feels light-headed, a little nauseous, probably from not eating before he fell asleep. His whole crest is tender, achy with the sort of radiating pain that seems to come from somewhere deep and unknowable in his gut. His hips are by far the worst, an awful pain deep in his spine paired with the bone-grinding pressure radiating from between his thighs. 

Zuko takes a deep breath, shifts and pushes until he’s in a seated position. “I want--” he begins, grunting with the effort required to shift on the nest with a pup trying to wedge its body between his hips. “I want to walk a bit.” 

“Not so fast,” Kanna calls, stringing over from her bed roll in the far corner of the room. “We need to check how far along you are. KATARA!” 

Gently, she pushes him back to a lying down position. Before he can really stage a protest, she’s pushed his legs into twin vee’s, feet flat on the nest, and has pushed his robes up to his chest. To his horror, he isn’t wearing anything beneath, the vulnerable core of him exposed and waiting to be probed. 

It is very suddenly all too much. The position, the pain, the heat that seems to be coming from nowhere and everywhere are too similar to that night, that dark room, with a terrifying Alpha hovering over him, breathing harshly in his ear, as he lay helpless, a victim of his own body. He’s going to scream. He’s going to scream, or vomit, or burn the whole damn palace to the ground; he can’t do this, he can’t-- 

“Hey, hey, hey!” Sokka urges, grasping his hand firmly and pulling his attention away from the two women between his thighs. Sokka’s brown is creased with concern, but he’s putting in the good faith effort to seem relaxed, poised. “Hey. Any name ideas?” 

Zuko might have laughed, or congratulated Sokka on successfully choosing the most distracting, frustrating topic of conversation possible, had fingers not suddenly entered him, cold and digging far too deep for comfort. He clutches at Sokka’s hand, breathes through the frisson of fear and disorientation crawling up his spine, clouding his mind. 

“You know what I’m going to suggest,” he grits, pushing an expression to his face that could perhaps be mistaken for a smile. 

Sokka actually smiles, brushes some of Zuko’s sweat-sticky hair from his forehead. “If we name this pup Kya, the Fire Sages will actually riot.” 

“So,” Zuko says, breathing a sigh of relief when someone’s fingers - Kanna? Katara? Who’s to say? - leave his body. “I’m Fire Lord. I can name my pup what I want.” 

Sokka merely hums. “How ‘bout we don’t start a civil war, though. At least with the first pup.” 

“ _ First? _ ” Zuko cries, wincing and squeezing down hard on Sokka’s hand as another wave of pain rocks through his body. “I’m not doing this again,” he vows, looking directly into Sokka’s eyes. “Do you hear me? This is it. This is the last time I’m doing this.” 

Kanna makes a noise from the far side of the room. “Kya said the same thing when she was pupping Sokka.” 

Zuko chooses not to say anything, but dares Sokka with his eyes to agree with Kanna. Sokka, the self-preserving fucker he is, smiles nervously and flexes his fingers in Zuko’s tight grip. 

“We’ll discuss it later?” he tries. 

“We’ll discuss your murder later,” Zuko huffs, pushing his robes down and hoisting himself back up to sitting. 

“Aika?” Sokka suggests, steadying Zuko when he tips dangerously on his feet. 

Zuko shakes his head, partially to clear it and partially to wave off the name. “No. Too sappy. And it doesn’t sound right.” 

“Ayame?” 

“Absolutely not. We’re not doing flower names, Sokka.” 

Sokka holds up his free hand in surrender. “Okay, okay. Just thought I’d float it.” 

“What about Azumi,” Zuko suggests, pausing to rock back and forth on his feet. “That could be nice; safe residence.” 

Sokka shrugs his shoulders, shifts behind Zuko to press his knuckles deep into Zuko’s spine, forcing away Zuko’s pain with sure, steady motions. “It could be. It has the right ring to it, at least.” 

Zuko would reply, but he nearly pitches onto his face as he instinctively curls around a wave of pain. Sokka catches him moments before he tips off his feet, holds him as he whimpers in agony. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Zuko whispers as he finds his breath. He breathes deeply in his nose and out through his mouth, releasing fire as he goes in a vain effort to cool himself down. 

“Okay,” Sokka announces, an unusual firmness in his voice. “Let’s get you someplace stationary. I don’t-- that was a little too scary for my tastes.” 

Usually, Zuko would buck at the idea of any Alpha, even Sokka, telling him where to be and how to place his body. Under normal circumstances he might snap at Sokka, sending him a withering glare. But right now? Right now, he happens to want exactly the same thing. 

“Fine,” he agrees easily. “But I want-- I want to try being on all fours.” 

“We could get you into the pupping pool,” Katara offers quietly from beside the bed. “Then you can be close to all fours, and the water can help to support your weight and ease your pain.” 

Zuko eyes the structure warily. Toph had built it from volcanic rock sourced from outside the city, and the large pool has been staring Zuko down every morning for the last five days. Getting in feels-- big; important; like it’s real, all of a sudden, and he’ll have a pup in his arms before he’s really ready. 

The nature of his situation hits him with the force of a speeding trolley: he’s going to have a pup in his arms relatively soon, whether he gets in the pool or not. If having a pup is his fear, it’s about eight months too late to be having second thoughts. 

“Zuko?” Sokka murmurs, bringing him back to the present where he has yet to move, still staring at the circle of volcanic rock like it will bite him. 

He nods sharply. “Yeah, let’s-- Yes. I want to get in the pool.” 

Sokka helps him hurry toward the pupping pool. They pause at the edge for Zuko to unrobe, Sokka’s eyes remaining staunchly on Zuko’s face, preserving what’s left of his privacy without a second thought. Zuko silently thanks every Spirit he can name that  _ Sokka  _ is the one by his side, the one who is standing with him as he walks into what could be his death. 

He freezes again, one foot on the top step, the other hovering midair above the water. Sokka slips closer, holding his weight easily as he peaks his head around to catch Zuko’s eyes. “Are you okay? In pain?” 

Zuko shakes his head, attempts a calming breath as he slips into the water. He cannot hold back the shocked, pleased sound that escapes him as he steps fully into the water. The volcanic stone is smoother than expected, though not so slick that he fears falling. The water is surprisingly warm, even steaming slightly. 

“It’s Spirit water,” Katara says, coming closer to test the water temperature with her fingertips. “I don’t really know why, but I know that it holds heat shockingly well. The magical properties should also aid a bit with the birth. You’re progressing nicely,” she notes, running her damp head over his loose hair in a motherly gesture. “Faster than I would have anticipated, but… you’re young. It’s working in your favour.” Her grin is wry, knowing, and it doesn't ache the way he expected. 

He finds himself chuckling, looking around for a familiar, belligerent face. “Where’s Toph?” 

“Outside,” Sokka says. “She’s antsy to come in, but I held her off so you could sleep.” 

“She can come in, now. Is-- Do you know if Bato is--” He trails off awkwardly, suddenly ashamed at wanting the older Omega’s presence. He isn’t sure when Bato became important to him, how he came to see the man as a stand-in Amma, and he knows Bato has never pupped in his life, but-- 

Sokka simply smiles, presses a chaste kiss to Zuko’s lips. “He’s out there with Aang, corralling the rest of the pups. I’ll go get him. You okay here?” 

Zuko nods, shifting easily in the buoyant water to face the edge of the pool and pulling his knees up to rest on the inlaid bench. “I’m alright for now. And--” He stumbles over himself, unsure of how to say everything he wants without making a fool of himself. “Thank you,” he settles on. “For-- for being here; for staying.” 

Sokka looks at him strangely, like he isn’t sure where Zuko comes up with half the words that come out of his mouth. Then he’s diving for another kiss, this one more indulgent, more intimate. “You don’t have to thank me,” he murmurs. “Really, I should be thanking you.” 

But before Zuko can question him on that, or demand he take back such ridiculous, beautiful words, he’s slipping away, striding across Zuko’s chambers and slipping through the heavy, wooden door. 

Zuko looks away from Kanna’s knowing, indulgent eyes, finds himself looking to Katara. 

“Is there anything I should know?” he asks, rocking side to side on his knees with ease. “Before things get… intense?” 

Katara shrugs, dries her hands, comes close enough to lean on the side of the pool. “Gran-Gran and I will keep an eye on you and the pup, make sure nothing seems wrong with your chi or your temperature. If we see something that seems off, we might ask you to get out of the pool and move to your nest. Or, if your pains start to come too slowly and too weakly, we’ll have you leave the pool. But so far, your labor has been going smoothly.” 

She smiles brightly, calm in the face of Zuko’s storm. “It was smart of you to sleep - you rested, and were able to pass through most of the boring waiting parts.” 

Zuko finds himself flushing with embarrassment, slipping deeper into the water like it could hide him. “Sokka was the one who suggested I nap. I… I tried to do work?” 

At Katara’s disapproving glare, Zuko winces. “I know,” he prefaces. “I know. I just-- Kanna said I had hours before anything important happened so I thought I could get some work done before I took the next two weeks off to look after the pup, and--” 

His stumbling excuses are cut off by the door bursting open, Toph storming in with her usual vim. 

Before Zuko can even say hello, she’s plunged her arm in the water, hand coming dangerously close to Zuko’s cunt. 

“What are you doing?!” he roars, grabbing her forearm in an iron grip. 

She blanches, face going wide with shock and the beginnings of guilt. 

“I-- I wanted to feel,” she explains, a pout forming on her face. “It’s not like I can  _ see  _ anything.” 

Zuko feels the fight draining out of him. He gentles his grip, still shaken and a little shocked at Toph’s sheer boldness. “When there’s something to feel, I’ll let you know,” he promises. “But-- just wait for me to tell you, okay?” 

She nods, pulls her hand out of the water reluctantly. “Promise?” 

Zuko is struck, sometimes, by how young she can be, how innocent her interests are even as she branches out, becomes more bold and sure of herself. 

“Promise,” murmurs, pulling her closer to nuzzle. 

Their impromptu scenting is interrupted by Sokka’s rearrival, Bato following close behind. The Omega is calm and collected, walking calmly toward the pupping pool. Sokka arrives first, bearing a plate of sushi. 

“You need to eat,” he says, slipping into place beside Toph. “Open.” 

He carefully places a bite in Zuko’s open mouth, chopsticks held confidently between his fingers. Still, his careful efforts are for naught when Zuko spits the sushi back out, mouth falling open in a cry as another, sharper wave of pain rocks through him. 

It’s long, terrible moments before he remembers how to breathe again, groaning through gritted teeth. Hands are on him and he wants them off, doesn’t want anyone to touch him as he hurts and feels painfully, shamefully vulnerable and  _ useless _ , a rocking ball of pain and fear. 

Slowly the pain eases, the need to be alone retreating with it. Still, it’s a long while before he feels ready to look up. Toph has eased away, fear and shock written plainly across her face. Zuko reaches out, squeezes her hand gently. 

“It’s okay,” he promises. “I’m alright.” He tries for a smile, knows she can’t see it but will hear it in his voice. “That was-- that was a tough one, but I’m okay.” 

She comes closer, nose in the air as she tries to scent his honesty. “That was freaky.” 

Zuko laughs, leans into Bato’s arm which has wound its way around his shoulder. “Yeah, it’s pretty freaky. Next time a wave comes, you should put your hand on my crest. It goes all hard.” 

Toph’s face opens with excitement, predictably pleased by the promise of being involved in anything weird and abnormal. “Seriously?” 

“Yup!” He turns to Sokka, opens his mouth. Dutifully, the Alpha places another bite of sushi on his tongue. This time, Zuko is able to chew and swallow, appreciating the fresh, cool taste of fish, as well as the sneaky heat hidden in the roll. 

“I’m proud of you,” Bato whispers, entirely unprompted. “You’re doing great. This is hard, and you’re handling it beautifully. Well done.” 

Zuko melts under the praise, remembering why he wanted the Omega in the room. He loves Sokka - he can admit that in the privacy of his mind, occasionally say the words to Sokka’s face without tripping over them and making an embarrassed mess of himself. And he loves Toph as well, loves her in an unthinking, easier-than-breathing sort of way. 

But he isn’t understood by them the way he’s understood by Bato. He doesn’t feel protected and sheltered the way he does with the older Omega - safe in a way he hasn’t felt since Ursa disappeared. He swallows heavily, tries not to cry. He opens his mouth even as he leans into Bato’s side, industriously chews on the sushi that’s placed in his mouth. 

“Thanks,” he whispers back once his mouth is clear. 

He wants to say more, but finds he can’t, finds there really isn’t anything more to say. Thankfully, Bato understands, merely squeezes him tighter before letting go, giving him space to process in peace. 

The next hours pass in a blur of sushi, touch, and waves of pain. Toph seems equally scared and fascinated by the waves, eagerly pressing her hand to his skin, then immediately diving for a reassuring nuzzle when it passes. Sokka has gone completely into provider mode, keeping Zuko comfortable with snacks, jokes, water, and cool cloths for his face and neck as the water seems to cook him like a lobster. 

Bato is a source of steadfast support, placing himself in Zuko’s blindspot and remaining there for hours, a steady stream of praise and unobtrusive touch to ground him. Kanna and Katara float in and out of Zuko’s eyeline, checking his temperature and chi and once, just as terrible as the last time, checking how far he’s progressed. 

(He has to stand high up on his knees, body almost completely out of the water as they prod him, eyes squeezed shut and hands practically crushing Sokka and Bato’s digits. That familiar urge to scream and cry, the wish for everyone to disappear and leave him to suffer alone, is never stronger than it is then.) 

Aang’s airbending pups come in waves, one or two admitted at a time by Hakoda, who only peeks in long enough to see them in and offer a bland, paternal smile before slipping away. They pepper Zuko with questions, wanting to feel his crest tighten, or pet his hair. 

One of them, a girl far more subdued than her counterparts, had walked right up, kissed her hand, and pressed it flat to the sunburst scar on Zuko’s chest. Frankly, he’d nearly forgotten about it, the memory so distant from his mind that her touch had been shocking, disarming. 

She’d looked at him with wide grey eyes, sock cheeks flushed and lips drawn into a concerned frown. “All better?” she asked, eyebrows tight with concern. 

Zuko had reached out, stroked her cheek gently. “All better. Thank you.” 

She nods once, nuzzles his palm, then turns on her heel and walks to the door, knocking to be let out with far too much aplomb for a child who could not be older than six. 

Sokka, of course, had looked at him with wide, pleading blue eyes. 

Zuko leveled him with a look. “What did I say?” 

“They’re just--” He stuck his bottom lip out, eyes going shiny on command. “They’re just so cute!” 

“I agree,” Zuko had said calmly. “Next time,  _ you _ can carry them around for nine cycles, bloat to the size of a moose whale, be in excruciating pain for hours on end, and then push a pup out of your body.” 

Sokka had folded like origami. “Noted,” he’d said lightly, and that was the end of that. 

By the time the urge to push actually came, Zuko was beyond exhausted. The middle of the night had long come and gone. He could feel the sun beginning it’s slow rise to the horizon, giving him an extra burst of energy, but that wasn’t quite enough to revive him entirely after a long night of pain and low-buzzing anxiety. 

His first push feels absolutely useless. 

He bears down as hard as he can, every muscle in his body obeying the instinctual urge to help this pup into the world, but nothing seems to come of it. The pup’s head doesn’t crown. His crest doesn’t seem to change shape. 

He hangs his head when it’s over, feeling demoralized, useless. This is the one thing he’s responsible for, the one task he has for this final part of the journey, and he can’t even do that right. 

He suffers through hands rubbing his back and shoulders in silence, nuzzling Toph only half-heartedly when she dives for comfort. 

_ I can’t do this _ , he thinks, wishes he didn’t.  _ I can’t do this. I can’t even have my own fucking pup. Spirits, I’m going to die here in this pool, a pup I can’t have lodged in my belly. I’m a failure. I knew I shouldn’t have done this, shouldn’t have even begun when I knew I couldn’t finish, couldn’t bring new life into this world without tainting it in some way.  _

Sokka has lodged himself in Zuko’s space, hand pressing Zuko’s face into his neck. Zuko breathes deeply on instinct alone, taking in the berries and snow scent he’s come to love, to crave, to need in a way that frightens him more than anything in the world. 

“Come back to us,” Sokka is whispering. “Come on, Sunshine. Come back to us.  _ Please  _ come back to us.” 

Zuko breathes in sharply, nods once, squeezes Sokka’s hand. 

“I’m here,” he croaks, aware of the wild reversal they’ve taken, suddenly conscious of how much he’d needed to hear  _ somebody _ say those two words. “I’m here. I’m--” He inhales shakily. “I’m scared shitless,” he admits, bracing against the wave of fear and shame that follows the confession. 

Bato appears from his periphery, brow pinched. “You’re allowed to be scared,” he says, hand coming up to cup Zuko’s cheek. Zuko leans into it, feeling just as young and alone as he’s always been. 

“You’re going to be alright,” Bato says, not putting a ‘but’ between the words, allowing the two thoughts to exist without contradiction. “You’ve got one of the best healers in the world standing here, ready to intervene. You’ve got a tribe elder standing by, with decades of experience in birthing pups. Your mate is here, and so is your pup. I’m here. We won’t let anything happen.” 

Zuko nods, brings his breathing under control. He’s entirely unused to being surrounded by-- he nearly chokes on the word, even in the safety of his own mind. Family. His family is here, even if only for right now. They’re here, and they won’t let him fail. Not this time. 

The urge to push comes again, infinitely stronger this time. Zuko strains to answer his body’s call, bearing down on the arms supporting him. This time something  _ happens _ . It hurts, burns and presses like nothing he’s ever felt in his life. He can  _ feel  _ his pup moving, shifting, their head forging a way through him and out. And then it’s real, it’s happening, his pup’s head is pressing it’s way into the world. 

And then, the urge to push recedes. Zuko sags, trembling. He feels entirely sapped of energy, unsure how he’s ever going to keep pushing, until he remembers he has a promise to keep. He fumbles for Toph’s small hand, pulls her closer and plunges her arm into the water. He ignores the panic, the likely horrified looks he’s getting from everyone around him, because he made a promise to his pup and he’s damn well going to keep it. 

“There,” he says, pressing her hand to where the top of his pup’s head is spreading him wide open. “That’s the pup.” 

He lets her have a moment to feel, searing the memory of her wide open, thrilled face into his memory before he has to push her hand away, shifting to make space for Kanna to step smoothly in front of him. Her face is all business, lined with concentration and sober in a way he’s never seen it before. She slips her hands into the water without so much as a ripple, hands moving unerringly to reproduce Toph’s exploration just moments before. 

“Well done,” she says quietly. “You’ve done so beautifully, Zuko. One more big push, and your daughter will be in your arms.” 

Zuko thinks, very briefly, of scolding Kanna for ruining the surprise, revealing his pup’s-- his  _ daughter’s  _ sex just moment’s before she enters the world. But then every thought is wiped out of his mind, entirely obliterated and replaced with a guttural, base need to bear down. 

He is helpless, suspended for a moment in time, reduced to nothing but a body that must move, muscles that must obey, a course which must run as it has run for millenia. There is pain, more pain that he has ever felt, a raging fire that is his and not all at once, one that grows heedless of his capacity to burn, and then it is over. 

Kanna makes a noise of triumph, but it fades into the background. The world fades to nothing; rather it zeros into the small, reddened form being brought out of the water. The form takes shape, first a head, already covered in black hair; then arms, capped with curled fists; then a body and legs, all tight up to one another, like his pup hasn’t gotten the memo that she’s no longer inside him. 

And then she’s in his arms. He holds her to his chest, unsure how to name what he is feeling, only that he is feeling everything at once. He realizes, somewhat distantly, that he is crying, sobbing, clutching his daughter to his chest like someone is going to rip her from his arms. Hands guide him to turn around and sit on the ledge he’s been kneeling on for hours. Towels are draped around his shoulders, around his pup, and his breath is stolen again because she is here, in his arms. 

“She’s so small,” he hears himself say, or maybe someone else says it, but he agrees. She is small. She’s tiny and vulnerable and soft, and she is crying too. Zuko holds her, brushes her tears away from her face, presses a million kisses to her skin when he remembers that she is his and he is allowed. 

“She isn’t scarred,” and that must be him, because nobody else would think to say something like that. 

Sokka has appeared, wrapping his arms around them both from behind, pressing reverent kisses to Zuko’s skin. “No, she isn’t,” he agrees. 

“She never will be,” Zuko vows. “Not like I was.” 

Sokka does not agree with words, but Zuko didn’t expect him to. They both know Sokka would never raise a hand to their daughter in anger, would never ruin her the way Zuko was ruined. That he physically couldn’t burn her the way Ozai burned him does not matter, because Sokka is good, and good Alphas do not abuse their pups. 

Kanna clears her throat, grabs Zuko’s attention. 

“It’s time to cut the cord,” she says, gesturing to the thick, purple-blue cord protruding from his daughter’s belly and retreating back into his body. “I believe Sokka will do the honors.” 

Zuko feels Sokka take a bracing breath, and then he is shifting, climbing into the bloodied water with Zuko. He has already stripped to his under-clothes and wields a sharp, ceremonial knife, but none of that really registers in Zuko’s mind beyond a faint buzz of surprise. 

Looking to Zuko for approval, he carefully reaches out, touches their daughter’s head. Zuko allows it, unsure why Sokka would ever feel hesitant. She is also his daughter, in every way that matters, in every version of this moment. Truthfully, she would be his, even if he did not love Zuko, had done the reasonable thing and chosen not to stay. 

In a clean motion, Sokka reaches forward, tips their pup toward him, and slices the cord. It bleeds slightly, and for a moment Zuko sees red, nearly destroys Sokka where he stands. But then the blood is tapering off, lost in the already reddened water, and Zuko cannot quite remember what he was so angry about just moments before. 

“Do you like her?” He hears himself asking, suddenly desperate for Sokka’s approval, desperate to hear that he’s done well. 

Sokka comes closer in the water, holds their pup between them like a heart outside both of their bodies, vulnerable but protected by everything they are. 

“I love her,” Sokka says, bending to press a kiss to her forehead, then to Zuko’s lips. “I love her,” he says again, infinitely closer this time. “Thank you. Thank you, thank you, thank you.” 

Zuko wants to ask why Sokka is thanking him, but his crest-- belly, he supposes, now that their pup is here in his arms - seizes with pain. He whimpers, twists in pain, and something warm and fleshy and decidedly unlike his pup escapes his body. 

Sokka steps away from his suddenly, startled enough to nearly slip from the water, and Zuko lurches forward without thinking, wanting to be close to his Alpha. A hand on Zuko’s shoulder holds him back, pins him to the wall of the pupping pool as his pup cries in his arms, startled by the movement. All thoughts of Alphas disappear from Zuko’s mind as he tends to the infant in his arms, holding her close. She will not settle, crying for something Zuko isn’t sure he can give her. 

Hands appear around him again, this time pressing his pup’s mouth open and helping it catch on Zuko’s nipple. She screams around his chest at first, refusing to latch. But then those hands-- Kanna’s hands are gently closing her jaw, and she is suckling, eating her first meal on this earth. Zuko finds himself relaxing, easing into the sounds of his daughter being fed, nourished by his body. 

As she settles, it’s like the room opens back up around him, the world expanding to include everyone in the room. 

Toph is standing just on the other side of the pupping pool, waiting with unusual patience to be introduced to his pup. He uses what feels like the last dregs of his strength to reach out, pulling her hand to the pup in his arms. 

“This is my daughter,” he narrates quietly. “Your sister. She has pale skin, though it’s pretty red right now, and a head full of dark black hair that seems to be a little curly. Her eyes aren’t open yet. She’s a little longer than the length of your forearm.” 

Toph leans closer, hand gentle, gentler even than when she sits with the turtleducks, as she explores the pup’s body, mapping small feet, smaller hands, and slightly deformed head with undisguised wonder. Toph sniffs when her sister grips her finger, the infant’s hand barely wrapping around the small digit. 

“I guess pups are alright,” she croaks. 

“Yeah,” Zuko says with a laugh. “They’re pretty alright.” 

Bato smiles down at them both, holds his hands away from the pool when Zuko tries to urge him closer. “I’ll meet her soon enough,” he soothes. “Enjoy your time with your pup. Any ideas for a name?” 

Zuko looks up, catching Sokka’s eye with a laugh as he realizes that they never actually decided on a name. 

“You know what I’m going to say,” Zuko says, just to get a laugh from Sokka. 

But Sokka doesn’t laugh, tears up. “You know we can’t--” he prefaces. “But Tui and La, would have been happy to see this day.” 

Zuko breathes deeply, on the verge of tears once more. “She’s not the only one,” he adds, thinking of his own Amma and her gentle voice and all the good she did, despite all her failings. 

Sokka nods, comes close enough to lay a gentle hand on their pup’s head. “She’s so perfect,” he croaks, and she has to agree. She  _ is  _ perfect, would be in his eyes no matter how she arrived in this world. 

“Izumi,” Zuko says, just to feel the name of his lips. Strong, cool hands are rearranging his arms to cradle his daughter more securely and helping him to stand. 

He’s hoisted out of the water and helped to step over its boundary, then down the steps and into his nest. Normally, he would balk at the hands on him, and the idea that he might need help doing something as simple as walk to his own bed. But his legs feel foreign to him, and his body feels distant, weak, in need of help. So, he allows the aid, allows himself to be cared for in a way he has never allowed before. 

“Didn’t we scrap that name?” Sokka asks, as he slips into the nest just before Zuko, forming a body pillow for him to rest again. 

Zuko shakes his head, settles his pup better in his arms as they shift. Already, holding her feels right, feels like something he understands. “Izumi. The spring that follows winter. The good hope after a bitter journey.” 

Zuko feels more than hears the soft, broken noise that escapes Sokka. 

“I love it,” he whispers, as the rest of their family slips through the door and offers them privacy. “I love you. I love Izumi.” 

“Izumi,” he says again, just for practice, just to be sure it fits her. On command, she unlatches, seems to tip her head to look at them. 

“Oh,” Zuko sighs, bringing her up to kiss her a million times again, because she is here, and perfect, and she scares him but he loves her. He loves her, and he was so afraid he wouldn’t, so afraid it wasn’t possible for him. 

Clumsily, he works her into position to burp, nearly dropping her when his hands slips on her still slick skin. She’s sticky and probably needs a bath, or at least a wipe down, but that can come later. With their combined efforts, they burp her, cheering her on. 

Kanna returns, whisking her away to wash her and ‘make sure everything is alright’ but Zuko knows he does not need to worry. Izumi is in good hands, the hands of her great grandmother. 

Sokka leans over with a soft grunt, picks up a plate of cubed mango. “Here,” he says quietly, bringing a cube up to Zuko’s lips. “Eat.” 

Zuko does so, chews the sweet fruit offered from his Alpha’s hands, and allows himself to fully exhale for what feels like the first time in his life. 

{}

“Okay,” Zuko says quietly, easing Izumi away from his nipple. “Alright, now we’re gonna burp you. Yeah, we are. We can do this. I can do this.” 

And he can. Mostly. 

He’s embarrassed, if he’s honest. In the three days that Izumi has been alive, here in this world, Zuko has not once been able to burp her by himself. He never seems to be able to do it right, afraid to hit her too hard and hurt her. 

But it’s the middle of the day, and Sokka is dead asleep, taking a much needed nap after caring for Izumi most of the night. Zuko can do this one thing, care for their daughter - it still gives him a thrill, referring to her as  _ theirs  _ instead of his - in this simple way. 

He shifts her carefully, leaning over the corner of their nest in case his hands slip and he drops her. Thankfully, his hands hold steady. He lifts her up and calms his breathing at the same time, remembering Hakoda’s words. 

_ Pups are built to take a little force _ , he coaches himself.  _ You aren’t going to hurt her. You aren’t Ozai. She’s going to be okay. It will hurt her more if she isn’t burped properly.  _

He feels his fear spike in his chest, afraid now that he won’t pat her hard enough; will get some gas bubble lodged in her small chest that will choke her. He forces himself to take a deep breath, think rationally. The likelihood that she will die from a rogue gas bubble are slim to none. Likely, she’ll just cry and fart it out hours later. That’s what Kanna said. He can trust Kanna. She knows what she’s doing, even when he doesn’t. 

He feels a keen urge to run to the door and get her, knowing she’s resting just outside their chambers, ready to be called upon at a moment’s notice. 

_ No _ , he cuts mentally.  _ I can do this. I can care for my pup. I’m not going to fail at being an Amma in the first three days. I can do this.  _

Another bracing breath, and he begins, patting from near her bum, all the way up to her throat, moving in small, circular motions. He feels her shifting, flexing still-unsure muscles as something - hopefully a burp - works its way out of her body. Feeling urged on, he repeats the motion, patting with a bit more force, still careful to modulate his efforts. 

Then, with a kick that nails Zuko right in his incredibly sensitive nipple, Izumi belches. The sound is louder than a pup so small should rightfully be able to make and added to the groan of pain that Zuko contributes, Sokka is snapping awake, rising to upright so fast that Zuko actually watches the blood rush away from his head. 

“Wha-- Izu-- Zuko--” Sokka stutters, eyes wide as he looks around the room before landing on them. Then his face stains with horror, and Zuko realizes that he is crying and what’s more he cannot stop. 

“What’s wrong,” Sokka asks, coming closer with fear in his eyes. “Is Izumi okay? What--” 

“She burped,” Zuko croaks. “I did it! She burped for me!” 

Confusion replaces the fear. Sokka still comes closer, pulling Izumi’s small body away just enough to check that she is still breathing. 

“That’s-- good? That’s a good thing? Why are you crying?” 

“I just--” Zuko stutters, trips over his words as he tries to explain how happy he is right now. 

_ I thought I was a bad Amma _ , he admits to himself.  _ I thought I couldn’t do this, thought I was failing my pup, but here she is! She’s burping for me! I did it, and I didn’t think I could, didn’t think I was capable of easing her pain. I thought I would be helpless forever, incapable of doing the most basic things to help my pup survive. But I did it! I’m not a complete failure at this!  _

But, “She burped for me!” is the only thing that will come out of his mouth, the only thing he can seem to say to express how relieved he is. “She burped for me,” again and again, until it becomes reassurance and wonder and Zuko thinks he finally understands what Kanna meant when she said that loving a pup was a choice. 

Sokka clearly gives up on understanding and simply holds them, holds Izumi and Zuko in his arms as Zuko weeps. “I love you,” he whispers over and over, a mantra of his own. “I love you both.” 

Zuko lets himself believe it. 

{}

For the first time in six days, Sokka and Zuko aren’t woken by their daughter’s snuffly cries, but by a gentle knock at Zuko’s door. Assuming it’s Bato, or possibly Hakoda, Zuko makes a vague noise indicating that it’s safe to enter, hauling himself into an approximation of sitting and pulling the sheets up to cover his chest. 

Still laying on his side, closer to asleep than awake, Sokka grumbles and growls his annoyance, asking what time it is only to receive an entirely unhelpful grunt from Zuko and a grumbled, “Approximately the ass-crack of dawn.” 

But, to their mutual surprise, it isn’t Hakoda or Bato in the doorway, but a young woman, peeking a timid head through the doorway. For a brief moment, Zuko mistakes her for Ty Lee before his mostly asleep mind catches up with his mouth. 

“Yes?” He asks, when the girl doesn’t seem much inclined to speak. 

She slips into the room on silent feet, bowing deeply. “Fire Lord Zuko,” she says in a murmur just loud enough to reach the bed in deference to the sleeping infant in the room. “Prince Iroh, Dragon of the West, is waiting for you in the sun room.” 

Zuko gives into the very childish urge to fall back into the warm spot of his bed with an overdramatic groan. Sokka rolls over, presses a warm hand to Zuko’s stomach, where his belly still hasn’t deflated completely after Izumi left it. Whatever he is about to say is interrupted by Liang’s shout of surprise. 

“Ambassador Sokka,” she squeaks, probably sketching another low bow. 

Sokka merely aims a wave beyond the sheets, returns his hand to the warmth of their nest. “You don’t have to go,” he says, nuzzling into Zuko’s neck. “He doesn’t send a letter for months, doesn’t help prepare for the pup, then shows up unannounced at the ass-crack of dawn? Fuck ‘im.” 

Zuko sighs, returns the nuzzling with exhausted enthusiasm, listening with one ear for the soft sounds that indicate Izumi will soon be waking and in need of feeding. “He’s my Uncle,” he says with a sigh. “And the Prince of the Fire Nation.” 

“And you’re the Fire Lord,” Sokka parries, pressing a line of kisses to Zuko’s shoulders. “At least sleep in a little bit. Iz won’t be up for another hour.” 

Zuko sighs heavily, hating that he’s already caving and they both know it. “We’ve got to work on better nicknames for her,” he says, instead of admitting defeat. 

Sokka makes a vague noise of agreement. “We can do that after we go back to bed.” 

Zuko hauls himself back up to sitting, loose hair falling into his face. He pushes it back with one hand, the other preserving his modesty using nothing but a sheet. “Liang, would you please tell Prince Iroh that we aren’t available for the next hour at least? If he gives you any trouble, come right back and tell me. I won’t be mad, and I’ll handle him.” 

She nods sharply and departs after a customary low bow. 

Zuko falls back into bed again, looking over to ensure that Izumi is, in fact, still sleeping peacefully. After a look at her beautiful face and an indulgent fingertip down her cheek, Zuko returns to the warmth of Sokka’s arms, the berries and pine scent of his skin. He’s asleep before he can even think to make Sokka promise to behave. 

The next time Zuko blinks into wakefulness, the sun is warming their room and Izumi is making soft cooing noises in her cot. Zuko rolls over, carefully extracting himself from Sokka’s grip to slide across the mattress and check on his pup. She isn’t smiling yet, but her face seems full of radiant calm as she looks around, wriggling minutely in her swaddling cloth, like she’s about ready to be allowed to stretch. Zuko is rubbing her belly through the cloth, cooing at her quietly, when he feels Sokka shift closer and rise onto his elbow. He curls an arm around Zuko’s waist, presses a kiss to Zuko’s temple. 

“Good morning,” he murmurs. 

Zuko hums, turns his head for a chaste kiss before both of their attention returns to Izumi and the calm that seems to ooze from her. 

“She’s perfect,” Sokka says quietly, echoing Zuko’s thoughts effortlessly. 

“I agree,” Zuko says easily. “I also think we’re a little biased.” 

“Nah,” Sokka sighs, reaching out to run a knuckle down her supremely soft cheek, sighing when she instinctively turns toward his scent and clumsily scent-marks him. “It’s a fact. I should know; I’m chock full of facts.” 

Zuko merely snorts out a laugh, turning to kiss Sokka properly. Sokka obliges, retracting his free arm from Izumi’s cheek to hold Zuko’s jaw, palm slipping down to rest possessively against the slightly inflamed scent gland on Zuko’s neck. 

“I love you,” Sokka whispers, knowing it will make Zuko flush to his belly. 

“I-- I love you too,” Zuko returns, only stumbling slightly over the words. 

Sokka grins, presses his face into Zuko’s neck, presses an insolent kiss to the scent gland, probably just to hear Zuko squawk. 

“Do we still have to meet Iroh?” Sokka asks. 

Zuko groans, their beautiful moment shattered. “I don’t want to.” 

“So don’t.” 

“But I have to.” 

“You don’t owe him anything.” 

“I owe him my life.” 

Sokka sighs heavily. They’ve had this conversation a thousand times, been through the ins and outs of the three years Zuko was under Iroh’s stewardship. They’ve hashed out all of Uncle’s successes and failures, and have yet to come to an agreement about whether Zuko owes him any more time. Though he hasn’t admitted it yet, Zuko agrees with Sokka more and more each time they go through this, Iroh’s failings made more obvious by Hokada, Kya, and Bato’s collective and continued successes. But that’s-- that’s big, and too much for this moment, that still feels so full of goodness. 

“C’mon,” Sokka urges, pushing himself out of bed with a groan that has no right coming out of a sixteen year old’s mouth. “I’ll get Little One ready for the day. You go get dressed.” 

Zuko lurches up, presses a kiss to the cut of Sokka’s jaw, now riding the edge between stubbled and bearded after six days of nonstop caring for Izumi, before propelling himself out of bed before he changes his mind and stays in this bubble of perfection forever. 

When they enter the sun room, Uncle is already seated, meditating in Zuko’s usual seat. He opens a single eye. “The wait has been more than an hour,” he says, cracking a small smile, “but it is more than worth it to see your smiling faces.” 

Zuko isn’t smiling, actually, Sokka certainly isn’t wearing a friendly expression, and Izumi  _ can’t  _ smile, so he isn’t entirely certain what Iroh is trying to say. 

Iroh climbs easily to his feet, strides toward them with arms outstretched. His eyes are zeroing on Izumi, arms closing to fit her size. On instinct alone, Zuko is stepping away as Sokka slips forward, hand already on the hilt of his sword. Iroh takes in the tableau, the sudden shift to make Izumi inaccessible. He seems to try for a smile, but it folds too quickly into a frown. 

“What, am I not allowed to hold my grand niece?” 

Zuko could say ‘I’m not ready,’ and it would be true. He could say, ‘I’m not used to people outside my bubble of family reaching for her,’ which would also be true. But the fullest truth, the one he cannot bear to wrap his mouth around is: Iroh forfeited his right to casual interactions with Izumi when he decided it would be best for him to stay in Ba Sing Se when Zuko really needed him here, in Caldera. He isn’t family anymore, not in any ways that count, and because he isn’t family, he does not get to reach for Zuko’s pup without asking. 

What he says out loud, after punishing silence, is, “No.” 

For a split second, Iroh seems frozen, like he isn’t even sure how to process Zuko’s refusal. Sokka’s growl seems to shake him out of his reverie. And when Sokka steps forward, pushing him away without laying a hand on the older Alpha, Iroh steps back. 

In silence, they all make their way to the low table, Zuko taking his rightful seat with Sokka at his side. For a long while, there isn’t anything to say, the line drawn between Zuko and Iroh sucking all the air out of the room. 

Thankfully, Izumi begins to stir, yawning and shifting in her swaddling cloth with more insistence. Zuko picks her up and shifts them to the small sofa on a shadowed wall, where it will be easier to hold her on his lap. He doesn’t have to look to know that Sokka has followed close behind, eager to spend time with their pup. As they sit, Zuko shifts Izumi to Sokka, allowing him to do the morning unwrapping. He does so the same way he first held her: like there’s no place he’d rather be, no honor higher than holding and caring for a pup. 

He speaks to her quietly, lovingly, narrating his actions as he unwraps her, laughing with quiet delight when her limbs explode apart in her morning stretch. Zuko, feeling helpless and leveled, as he always is where Sokka is involved, presses a kiss to the corner of his lips. 

“I love you,” he whispers, internally revelling with delight that he hasn’t tripped over those words again. 

Sokka looks away from Izumi just long enough to leave a kiss on Zuko’s temple, a whispered, “I adore you,” before his attention is back on their pup; like he hasn’t just forced Zuko’s heart to expand approximately nine sizes in his chest. 

“Be careful,” Iroh warns with a low sound in his throat. “Baby a pup too much, and they will be weak in character as adults. 

Zuko and Sokka look at one another, then simultaneously to the infant stretching her limbs and smacking her lips in Sokka’s lap. 

“Iroh, Izumi is six days old,” he says, tone incredulous. “If there was ever a time to baby her - which we aren’t - it’s now. Being attentive to her needs isn’t going to make her 'weak in character' twenty years from now.” 

Iroh makes a noncommittal noise. “I think I would know better than you, Sokka. I raised Lu Ten, after all. Nonetheless, it is good to know her name is Izumi. I was rather left out of the loop there.” 

Zuko puts a hand on Sokka’s knee before he can rip into Iroh for being out of the loop for the last five months. “There was a royal announcement sent out hours after she was born,” Zuko says, feeling unaccountably tired of this conversation. “I oversaw it myself.” 

“Oh, sure,” Iroh says with a sudden grin. “But I prefer to trust notices from the Fire Sages in matters such as these.” 

“You trust a group of strangers more than your own nephew?” 

Izumi makes a sound on Sokka’s lap; not a cry, but certainly the beginning of one. His attention drawn back to Izumi, Zuko can feel his nipples begin to leak, ready to nourish his pup. Sokka shifts her easily, watching closely and with undisguised wonder as Zuko opens his robe and helps Izumi latch. 

Iroh makes a loud noise of shock and covers his eyes with a dramatic flail of his limbs. Zuko looks back to his pup, face flaming with a shame he cannot place. 

_ I’m fine,  _ he coaches himself.  _ I’m feeding my daughter. I’m not doing anything lewd or untoward. She is hungry and I am feeding her. That is one of my responsibilities as her Amma _ . 

“Don’t,” Sokka says, and for a terrible moment, Zuko thinks the command is meant for him. “Zuko is feeding his pup. There’s nothing to be shocked or scandalized by. Don’t treat it like it’s something shameful or wrong, Iroh.” 

Iroh grumbles something too low for Zuko to hear but sets Sokka even more on edge, then removes his hands from his eyes. He looks first to Izumi, suckling happily at Zuko’s chest, before making fleeting, shamefaced eye-contact with Zuko. As his gaze returns to Izumi, Zuko wishes Iroh would cover his eyes again; that would be better than the grimace of discomfiture he now wears. 

“As I was saying,” Iroh says, dropping his gaze to his lap. “I know you have not had the best experiences with Fire Sages--” 

“The Fire Sages did irreparable harm to my family and to me, personally. Had they had their way, I would not be a master fire bender, or much of a fire bender at all. To this day, then undermine my rule as Fire Lord, arriving at every turn to coach me about what is acceptable and unacceptable as an Omega--” 

“They are trying to help you,” Iroh interrupts, voice dripping with condescension. 

“They’re trying to control him,” Sokka parries. “He isn’t a komodo rhino that needs to be taught not to bite. He’s a grown man who is more than capable of leading his nation without interference from Alphas who think his designation is more important than his character.” 

“The Fire Sages will keep their hands, their prophecies, and their schemes away from my daughter,” Zuko says in the ensuing silence. “Or I will destroy them.” 

Iroh is silent for a long moment, looking between them. “I see the hormonal surge from giving birth is still affecting you, Zuko. I will simply remind you of the value of tradition, especially in the Fire Nation.” 

Zuko freezes, unsure if he is more offended or angry, uncertain of how to even address what Iroh has just said. Sokka comes to his rescue. 

“You mean the tradition that started and perpetuated the Hundred Year war, destroying millions of lives around the planet?” He asks, laying Izumi’s sick-up cloth over Zuko’s robes without prompting. 

“Or maybe you mean the tradition of hunting Dragons and Sun Warriors like they were sport,” Zuko continues, voice carrying a wobbling edge, “blocking off access to healthy forms of fire bending?” He shifts Izumi to his shoulder, burping her with growing ease. 

“Or were you talking about the tradition of Omegas being seen and not heart, valued only by their proven ability to rear Alpha pups,” Sokka keeps up, catching Izumi’s feet before they can kick out on her burp and hit Zuko in the nipple. 

“Or maybe you were talking about the tradition of challenging children to Agni Kais and mutilating your son for speaking in defense of hundreds of young soldiers,” Zuko asks, just before Izumi unleashes a belch. 

Sokka coos at her as he always does, congratulating her on burping for her Amma, while Zuko meets Iroh’s eye, unwilling to back down. 

“No,” Zuko says after Izumi is back in her Appi’s arms, being rocked into a mid-morning doze. “We won’t be sticking to most Fire Nation traditions, especially not where Izumi is concerned.” 

Iroh sighs heavily. “I do not think that is a good idea. She is the Crown Princess of the Fire Nation. If she knows nothing of the traditions of her nation, how--” 

“She isn’t your pup,” Sokka cuts on a growl. “So, frankly, your opinion doesn’t matter.” 

“She isn’t yours either,  _ Ambassador _ Sokka.” 

Sokka looks like he’s been knifed in the chest: shocked and too numb to be in pain, unsure how to inhale with this foreign hurt lodged inside him. Zuko rises to his feet, violent fury rising in his belly and throat. 

“Leave,” he demands, voice barely above a whisper. “You’re dismissed, Prince Iroh. Leave the palace immediately, or so help me Agni, I will burn you to a crisp where you stand.” 

Iroh rises easily to his feet, bowing only once before he slips through the door. 

Zuko looks back, sees Sokka looking at Izumi in his lap, hands hovering above her body like he isn’t even sure if he can touch her anymore. 

“Sokka--” 

“He’s right.” The numbness and low resignation in his voice  _ hurts _ , makes Zuko want to scream, want to kill Iroh where he stands. 

“He’s not,” Zuko insists. “He couldn’t possibly be more wrong.” 

“Zuko, I didn’t sire her.” 

“And I don’t care!” He snaps, giving into the urge to shout. “I don’t care and fuck you for thinking I would!” 

Izumi begins to cry, snuffly, startled sounds. Sokka looks at him, holds her out like Zuko will take her. Zuko refuses, forcing Sokka to care for her like he damn well promised he would. 

“We aren’t even mated,” Sokka tries, on his feet now as well to walk and bounce their daughter. 

“Are you going to leave?” Zuko demands, feeling hot all over, skin suddenly too thin, heart beating too close to the surface. 

“ _ No _ ,” Sokka growls, cutting a fierce look at Zuko. Zuko glares right back, unwilling to back down from this conversation. “My point,” Sokka says, “is that I’m not even sure we can be mated, or married. You’re the Fire Lord. I’m nobody.” 

“Technically, you’re the prince of the Southern Water Tribe,” Zuko shoots back. “No, don’t-- I know it doesn’t work like that, precisely. But, legally, there is a way for us to marry. I didn’t think you  _ wanted  _ us to marry.” 

“Why wouldn’t I want to marry you?!” Sokka cries, cussing quietly when Izumi starts back up her tears. Sokka passes her to Zuko, who takes her easily, pressing her small, wet face into his throat. 

“You never said anything!” Zuko says, struggling to keep his voice down. “And you sounded so uncomfortable when you said Advisor Yu thought we were mated--” 

“Yeah, ‘cause I wanted us to be mated and married but I didn’t want anyone to know because I thought that  _ you  _ didn’t think of me that way!!” 

Zuko blinks, brought to a halt by this information. “Oh,” he says quietly. 

“Yeah, oh,” Sokka snaps, though the fight seems to have gone out of him. He runs a hand through his hair, sighs heavily. “But, Iroh has--”

“If the rest of that sentence is ‘a point’ I will not be held responsible for what I do,” Zuko cuts smoothly, glaring at Sokka over their daughter’s head. “He  _ doesn’t _ have a point, and I’m not going to stand here and listen to you act like he does.” 

When Sokka doesn’t immediately respond, looking at Zuko with a strange helplessness in his eyes, Zuko ploughs on. “My biological father mutilated me, so sorry for not really caring very much about whether a family is related by blood. Blood relation doesn’t matter, and it doesn’t make someone a better parent to their pup. As far as I’m concerned, Izumi is half Fire Nation and half Southern Water Tribe, and she’ll be raised accordingly.” 

Sokka looks away with a sigh, scrubs a hand down his face. “I’m not going to get you to back down from this, am I?” 

“No,” Zuko says, feeling more than a little petulant. “You aren’t. So stop trying to convince me that I shouldn’t want you. You’re it for me, okay? So stop.” 

Sokka softens, crumbles out of his defensive stance with a sigh. He comes forward, rests his hand on Izumi’s back as he leans in to kiss Zuko. Zuko kisses back, determined to wipe away any doubt remaining in Zuko’s mind with the simple press of their lips. 

“Are we done with this conversation,” Zuko asks, still close enough to feel Sokka’s breath against his skin. “Can we agree to never do this again?” 

“Depends,” Sokka asks, bending down to nuzzle Izumi’s head, press kisses to her hair. “Is the ‘this’ never seeing Iroh again?” 

“I meant argue about whether or not you’re Izumi’s Appi.” 

Sokka makes a considering noise, “On one condition.” 

“Oh yeah?” 

“Yep.” 

“And what’s that condition?”

Sokka kisses him again, deeper, lingering. “Marry me.” 

Zuko freezes, breath forcing itself out of his lungs on a pathetic wheeze. He clutches Izumi tighter, tight enough that she whines her disapproval. He passes her to Sokka almost frantically, afraid that he will drop her onto unforgiving granite as his hands go numb with shock. 

Sokka takes her easily, looking at Zuko with growing unease. “Zuko?” His brown begins to furrow and he steps closer. “Zuko, this wasn’t supposed to be a--” 

“Are you-- are you serious?” Zuko asks, feeling like a complete idiot and simultaneously desperate to be certain, to know that this isn’t fake. “You-- me-- forever?” 

“Yes?” Sokka squints at him with confusion. “You, me, forever. That’s exactly what I was imagining.”

It doesn’t feel real. It can’t be real. This can’t be happening. In no universe does Sokka tie himself to Zuko. In no world does he choose to stay. Yet, here Sokka is, offering himself up to the hell that being married to Zuko would certainly be.

“You can’t--” 

“You said we could two seconds ago!” 

“No, I--” Zuko squeezes his eyes shut, tries to find words that will help Sokka understand how wonderful he is, how undeserving Zuko will always be. “Yes, legally, we can marry--” 

“So you don’t want to  _ actually  _ marry me?”

“NO! YES! Yes, I want to marry you!” 

“Great!” 

Izumi is crying again. They cuss in unison, look at each other. The absurdity of the moment hits them at the same time, and they are laughing. They are laughing and neither of them can seem to stop, which is funny in a sad way because Izumi is still crying and one of them needs to soothe her. They move to help her at the same time, Zuko coming closer as Sokka presses her to his heart. They stand together, watching over their daughter, twin, near-hysterical smiles on their face. 

“One more time,” Sokka says, a laugh threatening to escape him. “One condition.” 

“One condition,” Zuko repeats, nodding and trying far too hard to remain serious, eyebrows twitching madly in an effort to keep his lips still. 

Sokka follows suit, lips drawing into a frown and trembling with the force of his pent-in laugh. “Marry me?” 

Zuko takes a deep breath, looks at the love of his life, who is laughing so hard he is crying and holding their daughter in his arms. The answer is easy this time, and just this once there is no voice in his head telling him to watch for the catch, to look up for the shoe threatening to fall. There is only love, love so big that it cannot stay in his chest, must explode from his mouth in the quietest of words. 

“A million times, yes.” 

The End! 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ALKSJDF IT HAPPENED!!! IZUMI IS HERE!!! as i said, don't worry, there will be more shenanigans with the family as toph, sokka, izumi, and zuko settle into their lives as a family. i hope you all have enjoyed this! please come shout with me in the comments, it keeps me going!!!


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